The dim glow of the cavern filtered in through the cracks in the wooden walls, casting long, wavering shadows across the small room. Outside, the sounds of the Valkari settlement had quieted to nothing but the occasional murmur of distant voices and the low crackle of fires still burning in their pits.
Inside, the four of them lay in their respective places—Selka fast asleep on her mattress, Merrick sprawled on his bed, and Mira curled up against the wall near Char's cot. Char himself lay on his back, staring at the uneven ceiling, sleep nowhere near coming.
For a while, there was only silence.
Then, a quiet voice broke it.
"Do you think we'll ever stop running?"
Mira's whisper carried softly in the still air, her tone thoughtful but laced with something heavier—exhaustion, maybe. Or uncertainty.
Char turned his head slightly, catching the dim outline of her face. "I don't know," he admitted.
A pause.
Merrick sighed from his bed, shifting slightly. "It'd be nice," he said. "But I doubt it. The world doesn't let people like us stay still for long."
Char swallowed. That was a hard truth to hear, even though he already knew it.
Mira let out a breath, her fingers idly playing with a loose thread on her sleeve. "I used to think Hallow's Rest would be my home forever," she murmured. "Even though I never really felt like I belonged there. I thought that was just life—staying where you are, making the best of it."
She shifted slightly, her voice growing softer. "But the second I stepped out of that town, I realized I was meant for more. That we were meant for more. And now…" She trailed off, as if unsure how to put her thoughts into words.
"You don't know where you're supposed to be anymore," Char finished for her.
Mira turned her head towards him, her blue eyes glinting faintly in the dark. "Yeah."
Char exhaled slowly. "I get it."
Of course he did. His situation was even worse—he wasn't even supposed to be in this world. And yet, here he was, running through its mountains, fighting its people, trying to survive in the very story he had once only written.
"I don't know if we'll ever stop running," he said after a moment. "But I think it's okay to not have all the answers yet."
Mira hummed softly, as if considering that.
Merrick, from his bed, let out a quiet chuckle. "You two sound so serious. It's kind of funny."
Char glanced over at him. "And what about you? You don't seem worried at all."
Merrick sighed dramatically. "Oh, I'm plenty worried. I'm just too tired to deal with it right now." He rolled onto his side, resting his head on his arm. "But I do think this whole thing is pretty wild. I mean, think about it—we just survived a hugemess in Hallow's Rest, got teleported to some hidden Valkari settlement, and now we're lying here talking about life like it's some kind of deep poetry."
Char snorted softly.
Merrick sighed again, but this time there was something a little more serious in it. "I do wonder, though," he murmured. "If things had gone differently back there… if Benjamin had made it…"
The name sent a jolt through Char's chest.
Mira went silent.
For a long time, none of them spoke. The weight of it—the weight of him—hung over them all like an unspoken shadow.
Finally, Mira whispered, "I keep thinking about it, too."
Char swallowed. His voice felt caught in his throat, but he forced the words out. "I miss him."
Simple. Honest.
Mira nodded, though he barely saw it in the dark. "Me too."
Merrick let out a slow breath. "Yeah."
The silence stretched again, but this time, it was different. Not uncomfortable, not suffocating—just quiet. The kind of quiet that came with understanding.
After a while, Mira's voice softened, barely more than a murmur. "You think he'd be proud of us?"
Char thought about that. About the way Benjamin had stood in that cave, his power radiating like something untouchable, his last stand against Flint and the others. About how, in the end, he had made the choice to protect them, even knowing it would cost him everything.
And Char, in all honesty, wasn't sure if he had done anything to deserve that sacrifice.
But still.
"Yeah," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "I think he would."
Mira let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh, as if some of the weight she had been carrying had lifted just a little.
Merrick groaned, stretching his arms. "Alright, enough of this emotional talk. We all need sleep if we're going to figure out our next move tomorrow."
Char smirked slightly. "You started it."
Merrick huffed. "And I'm ending it. Goodnight, you sentimental fools."
Mira chuckled softly. "Goodnight."
Char didn't say anything, but as he closed his eyes and listened to the slow, steady breathing of his companions, he felt—just for a moment—that maybe, despite everything, they weren't as lost as they thought.
*
The crisp morning air bit at Char's skin as he slipped out of the cramped shack, pulling his cloak tighter around his shoulders. The settlement was still cloaked in the quiet stillness of dawn, the only sounds the distant crackle of dying embers from last night's fires and the occasional shuffle of someone stirring in their sleep. It was early enough that most of the Valkari were still deep in their slumber, which meant it was the perfect time for him to slip away unnoticed.
He moved carefully through the stone paths, past huts carved into the cavern walls, keeping his head down. Find the vein. That was all he needed to do.
The Tome of Ascendancy had described the stones in detail—their glow, their weight, the unique hum they emitted when gathered in clusters. He had even written about them himself back in his old life, long before he ever imagined stepping into this world. Yet now that he was here, walking through a place that should have felt like familiar ground, all of his supposed knowledge felt strangely distant, like he was trying to recall a dream.
The mountains surrounding the settlement were rumored to house veins of the Ascension Stones deep within their caves and fissures, but no exact location had ever been recorded. That meant he had to search for them the hard way.
He stepped through a narrow passage that led out of the cavern and into the outer valleys, where the rising sun cast a pale blue glow over the jagged mountain peaks. The rock formations here were different—sharper, more weathered, and streaked with veins of something faintly iridescent beneath the stone.
Char exhaled slowly. This has to be the right place.
Kneeling down, he ran his fingers over the rough surface of the rock, trying to sense something—anything—that might indicate the presence of the stones. He tried to recall everything he had ever written about Ascension Stones in his stories.
"They pulse with a quiet, living energy," he had once described. "Not quite heat, not quite cold—something in between, like the echo of a heartbeat beneath the earth."
If that was true, then he just needed to focus.
Closing his eyes, he pressed his palm against the stone, letting himself listen, feel.
For a few moments, there was nothing.
Then—
A faint sensation. Not quite warmth, but a tingling presence beneath his skin. Like something hidden, just beneath the surface.
His breath caught. That's it.
But before he could dig further, a voice cut through the quiet.
"You're up early."
Char's body stiffened. Slowly, he turned his head.
Lucien Wolfsbane stood a few feet away, arms crossed, his pale blue skin faintly illuminated by the morning light. His piercing yellow eyes were unreadable, but his stance was anything but welcoming.
Char's pulse quickened.
How long had Lucien been watching him?
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension in the air was thick, heavy with unspoken questions.
Lucien tilted his head slightly. "You looking for something?"
Char forced himself to stay calm. "Just exploring."
Lucien didn't look convinced. "At sunrise? Outside the settlement?" His gaze flickered toward the stone Char had been examining. "You wouldn't happen to be searching for something specific, would you?"
Char hesitated. Careful. One wrong move, and he could jeopardize everything.
"What if I was?" he asked cautiously.
Lucien's jaw tightened. "Then I'd ask what business an outsider like you has with the Ascension Stones."
Char felt his stomach drop. So he knows.
He kept his face neutral. "I've read about them."
Lucien scoffed. "Of course you have."
A beat of silence.
Char could see the distrust in Lucien's posture, the way his muscles tensed ever so slightly. He had expected hostility—Lucien had been nothing but antagonistic since they arrived—but this was different. This wasn't just wariness toward a stranger. It was personal.
"You don't want me here, do you?" Char said carefully.
Lucien's expression darkened. "You shouldn't be here."
Char frowned. "Why? Because I'm human?"
Lucien's lips curled into something bitter. "Because I don't trust outsiders who come sniffing around our land, digging up things they don't understand." His voice was low, sharp. "The last time a human meddled with Ascension Stones, the Valkari paid the price for it."
Char stilled.
He didn't need to ask what Lucien meant. He already knew.
The Valkar War.
The battles fought over power, over magic, over land that had belonged to the Valkari long before Oryn-Vel had claimed it as their own. The Ascension Stones had been a key part of that war—prized for their mysterious properties, hoarded by those who sought power, and ultimately used as a tool of destruction.
Lucien took a step closer, his gaze sharp enough to cut. "So tell me, outsider. What exactly are you planning to do with them?"
Char met his glare head-on. "I'm not here to exploit them."
Lucien narrowed his eyes. "Then why are you looking for them?"
Char hesitated.
I need them to get stronger. To survive. To have any chance of facing what's coming.
But he couldn't say that. Not yet.
Instead, he exhaled and met Lucien's gaze with quiet honesty. "I just want to understand."
Lucien studied him for a long moment, expression unreadable. The silence stretched between them, tense and uncertain.
Then, finally, Lucien let out a slow, measured breath.
"You'd better be telling the truth," he muttered. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the morning mist.
Char stayed frozen in place, heart still pounding.
He had been lucky. Too lucky.
This was a warning.
Lucien might have let him off this time, but Char knew that if he made one wrong move, he wouldn't get another chance.