Author's Preface
Luckily, it seemed that the group hadn't gone too far into the next chamber. Arjuna’s hurried steps soon caught him up to the rest of the group. A bit out of breath, he nodded at the trio, resting one hand reassuringly on Nassor’s shoulder. “Hah… okay. What’s the issue, brother? What did you want me to see?”
Why are they all just standing there-
He smelled it first.
A thick, coppery, metallic scent hit the back of his throat - so heavy it made him feel like he was choking on coins. Then came the sharp, burnt-hair tang of ozone, rotten and vile… with a faintly sweet, sickening undercurrent beneath all of it.
Nassor turned back, giving his younger brother a small grimace. "It's... gonna be bad. Stick close to Leila. The Heiress might freak. Probably not gonna like what she sees." He then faced forward again, spear in hand. “Step carefully, and be quiet."
Arjuna simply nodded, his free hand already reaching for his bow. Not a single complaint or bit of banter.
His other hand… Arjuna stepped slightly to the side, reaching out for Leila. The Heiress took an instinctive step toward him, and then…
Squelch .
Leila’s breathing hitched. She slowly looked down. And her breathing immediately went out of pace.
“No… no… Mister Reddy, Miss Singh…” The Heiress felt the blood in her veins freeze. And a cold, tingling sensation raced down her spine, cold sweat beading across her fair brown skin. “Why… why are they here…?”
“Leila, I’m here,” Arjuna whispered quietly, his hand resting upon her shoulder. Slow. Calm. Gentle. “We’re all here. We’re a team. You…”
But she didn’t respond. Her gaze was fixated downward, locked onto the floor. Arjuna took a hesitant moment to follow her eyes and glance down as well.
…
Four digits rested upon a single weathered, skinny hand. The skin was already turning a sickly, waxy pale. And where the thumb should have been…
Just a shortened stump. Not even bleeding. It had been cauterized by something. And cleanly, at that.
T-those faces, Arjuna paled, his mind already making the connections. I've seen those two before. The stewards at Leila's manor...!
Click.
Automated torches suddenly flared to life across the perimeter, illuminating a cavernous, circular chamber. But just like in the hallway before, the blue-gold lighting felt suffocated, fighting desperately just to cast its glow across the room… and everyone felt sick.
Elongated, monstrous shadows were cast over mountains of corpses. Dozens of them.
They were people clad in thick, magenta robes that looked entirely out of place for a desert town. The wounds scattered across them were erratic and brutal: one was missing a hand, another an eyeball, a third a whole leg, while one simply had a clean, fist-shaped hole punched straight through their chest. And the carnage went on.
At least six other Royal Watchers, dismantled and broken, their magic circuits fizzling out.
The defiled body parts of goats, sheep, and chickens, their blood drying out beneath them.
“Sphinx almighty,” Kazan murmured under his breath, his fingers nervously rubbing against his medical pouch just to keep himself grounded. “These cuts - missing fingers, an eye, a leg... they're clean cauterizations. Precise. That kind of pain breaks a man, but it don’t kill 'em. Nope. S-somebody kept them alive just long enough to vacuum the Jiu straight out of their marrow.”
“…yeah,” came Nassor’s voice, low, solemn, and deeply respectful of the dead. “But we can’t freeze up now, everyone. W-we have to stay… stay…”
He took a sharp, deep breath. Calmed his nerves. He tried his damndest to remain sane and in absolute control.
“Right. Stay calm. This..." Nassor shook his head. "This explains why there wasn't any more security. The other Watchers are all down, and these folks... Let’s keep to the walls, and avoid the corpses, so-”
“Hm? Why would you avoid the corpses?”
It was a voice none of the scouts had ever heard before. A voice so impossibly soft and gentle… yet carrying an overwhelming, suffocating presence.
Her silhouette materialized slowly from the deepest reaches of the room’s unnatural darkness. Tall. Slim. And… completely, unsettlingly off .
The woman’s silks were glossy, intricately detailed, and not of purely Solaran design. They featured heavy, elaborate stitching far too suffocating for the desert heat, adorned with delicate white lace that looked entirely out of place in a tomb. Her long, wavy hair flowed as black as midnight, catching the torchlight with rich undertones of deep magenta.
But perhaps what stood out the most were two distinct details.
First were those eyes. Slitted, amethyst eyes, sharp and predatory like a dragon’s or a viper’s. They didn't reflect the light; they felt like bottomless pits, or portals leading into a dark hellscape.
Second was the massive umbrella held casually in one hand. It boasted a shaft of black-lacquered steel, gripped firmly by a slender hand encased in a black lace glove.
…and thick, dark blood was steadily dripping from its canopy.
“Those lovely corpses,” came the woman’s soft, silky, almost demure voice once again. “So full of life. Life that was simply going to waste inside such small, fragile containers. Now that I have set them free… they’re really no different from the very tiles we step upon.”
The tall beauty stepped forward with a slow, deliberate grace. Her high-buttoned ankle boots clacked rhythmically against the stone…
…and crunched sickeningly as she stepped directly onto a dead man’s chest, caving his ribcage in without a second thought as she closed the distance toward the party.
“Ah. Where are my manners?” She smiled sweetly and curtsied with impeccable, aristocratic politeness, her messy black bangs framing a sharp, oval face. “You may call me… Azarin. Overseer of the Khaldani District. It is a pleasure to meet you all, intruders.”
Among the four scouts, the air was thick with a paralyzing cocktail of fear, shock, and utter disgust. None of them had ever witnessed such a systematic, gruesome slaughter - and now they were face-to-face with the strangely beautiful, regal, yet thoroughly unsettling woman.
Nassor took a steadying, deep breath. Arjuna instinctively shifted a half-step closer to protect Leila, his bow ready, while Kazan’s fingers dipped tensely toward his pouch.
But Leila had an entirely different reaction. Her fists clenched tightly. Her jaw locked. And through gritted teeth, she whispered, “…Azarin Vritra?”
The tall woman’s slitted amethyst eyes lit up with mocking recognition. “Oh my. Little Leila Al-Thuraya. All grown up and playing mercenary. I thought you couldn’t fall even lower, Little Star Whore. Seems even I can be surprised.”
“You…” Leila’s voice shook, vibrating with pure, unadulterated rage. “You were always strange, but this ? Why are you here in the Royal Tombs? Why are all these people DEAD, Azarin?!? You betray what it means to be part of the Three Noble Families!”
Azarin laughed softly - a silky, chilling sound that echoed through the vault. “Betraying? Darling, you shouldn’t speak on loyalties when you don’t know a single thing about how this world truly works. Be quiet now. Someone so childish… couldn’t understand. Here. Have a look..”
With a theatrical, sweeping wave of her gloved hand, Azarin stepped gracefully to the side. As the warped shadows parted, something became visible at the very edge of the room's unnatural darkness.
Resting just behind the Overseer was a low-risen pedestal. And sitting atop it was a thin, flat object that shimmered faintly against the gloom. Jagged, organic patterns crawled across its surface - dark hues of deep purple and crimson that almost seemed to pulse and dance under the light.
“What exactly is that…?” Arjuna whispered, squinting. “It’s like… scales or something…?”
“Oh! Good job, so smart little bird!” Azarin cooed with dripping, condescending sweetness. “They are scales, yes. Abyssal Scales. Belonging to the only one I worship, the only true ruler of this world… The Devouring Sky herself. Lady Vespera.”
“Huh? Who the hell is that?” Nassor scoffed, his grip tightening around the shaft of his spear until his knuckles turned white. His sharp eyes flicked across the literal nightmare of a room - the mountain of drained corpses, the shimmering Abyssal Scales, the shattered mechanical Watchers - before snapping right back to Azarin.
“Don’t know, and don’t care. But I know a monster when I see one. You definitely ain’t a good person. And…”
Arjuna instantly mirrored his brother, dropping into a fighting stance despite the faint tremor in his hands. He raised his bow, drawing the string taut as his eyes glared daggers at Azarin.. “Leila doesn’t deserve to be called that name. Your aura reeks of blood. And no one deserves to be slaughtered like cattle!”
Seeing her team standing up for her, ready to lay down their lives, Leila took a deep, shuddering breath.
‘Calm,’ the Heiress chanted desperately in her own mind. ‘Don’t get angry. Don’t let your fear or your rage cloud your focus…’
…And then she completely ignored her own advice, stepping further, even in front of Nassor.
“Hmph. Call me whatever names you want, I’ve stopped caring about reputation. But you keep sounding all important, like some pompous bitch!” Leila spat out scathingly, her voice ringing off the stone walls. “My name is Leila Al-Thuraya! Daughter of House Al-Thuraya, Heir to the Stars! And we’re not afraid of whatever you truly are!”
She dropped into a combat stance, loosening her shoulders as she spread her palms wide. One leg slid deep in front of the other, her wide stance perfectly balanced with each open palm aligned over her feet. Across her skin, the royal star-tattoos suddenly flared to life, burning with a brilliant, blinding green light - her eyes blazing with fire.
A small sigh escaped Azarin’s light blue lips. She shook her head, almost disappointed… and then?
The Overseer snapped her fingers. And the darkness moved.
It crept forward not like a wave, but more like a raging firestorm, pitch black and wild. An eerie sound erupted at the same time. As if the flames themselves were screaming, crying voices...
“We ain’t taking any chances!” Nassor exclaimed, already dodging the first wave of flames with incredible speed. “Don’t even think about how strong this bitch is - GO!” The spearman jumped over the next wave, heading directly for Azarin.
The onslaught kept going, assaulting even the backlines. Arjuna had dodged backwards and to the side, moving around wave, already nocking his arrows. After dodging the final fiery pillars, and careful not to step on the corpses - he let the arrows fly. They curved through the air, shifting direction a few times to keep Azarin guessing - THUNK! - before crashing harmlessly against her parasol.
“Useless,” Azarin murmured, not having moved a single step from her original spot. Letting out a small yawn, her free hand covering her mouth. “Do try again. I’m still quite hungry.”
Kazan had taken up his spot far away from the action, staff firmly planted in the ground. Flames screamed all around him - but remained held back by a barrier of golden light. “Think… think… OKAY. You two! Go for it!”
Jiu pulsed and traveled through the ground, past the corpses, and into Nassor and Leila’s bodies. Strengthening their muscles and amplifying them yet again.
“Right!” Leila charged at the same time as Nassor now, the two of them approaching from the left and right sides. Within her palms, the Heiress had coalesced bundles of Star Magic, crackling and ready to explode.
As the fastest of the four, Nassor attacked a beat ahead of Leila. His silver spear thrusted through the dank air, each blow strong enough to shatter steel.
Yet Azarin began her dance. Each dodge was flowy and elegant, with plenty of wasted motion. Combined with that sneer…
“Ain’t even taking me seriously,” Nassor thought to himself. He locked eyes with Leila across the room. And the next wave of thrusts came in tandem with Leila’s palm strikes.
The condensed Jiu bombs went off, but due to their size, it only took some more deft twists of Azarin’s body to let them explode just inches away.
Nassor’s silver spear clanked against the umbrella twice, three times, ten. The eleventh thrust just grazed across Azarin’s stomach, tearing the fabric slightly. No blood.
And she just looked at the tall mercenary with a smile. “Ooh. That was just a bit filling. But still too mortal~”
He then felt the full weight of enhanced steel against his own midsection, her parasol sending him flying.
“SHIT-!”
His back slammed against the wall, leaving cracks against the hardened stone.
“Not coordinated enough,” came The Overseer’s soft voice, her lips curling into a smile. “You two only just met. And now…”
A skirt-clad knee crushed right into Leila’s midsection.
And Azarin grinned wide. “Hahahaha…! Frail, slow, lacking motivation! You are NOT a warrior, little star!”
“GHHH!” Leila spat out a bit of blood, and then went careening back just like Nassor.
Shwooom.
Star Magic flared up in time however. The Heiress softened the crash, only gritting her teeth at the collision with the wall.
“Forget close combat, Leila!” Arjuna yelled from the backline, this time creating arrows that glowed red.. “She’s right! Stay mid-range for now!”
Kazan was now at Arjuna’s side, hands resting on the archer’s bow. His brow furrowed with concentration… one, two, three, four, five… the healer’s Jiu was flowing into the bow now, fueling it with more than enough ammo.
And not just regular ammo. This time, the tips of the arrows seemed to shimmer grey under the torch light.
“Now!” Kazan exclaimed.
That was the cue.
Arjuna let them loose wave after wave. Three arrows at a time, until nine arrows shot out like a delayed drum beat. Only under the flickering of the torchlight…
“More of the same? This isn’t enough for my appetite,” Azarin groaned. She yawned and covered her mouth with one hand, while the other opened up her umbrella, blocking the arrows just like before.
… except this time, three of them remained stuck in the reinforced metal like glue.
Kazan grinned, taking out two pills from his pouch and slamming them against the floor. “Hahaha, bet you ain’t expecting this!”
“Wha-”
Flames. From the shadow of the arrows, each Jiu-condensed shaft had left a long line of magical firestarter. A grey substance, now splattered all across the umbrella, letting her own pitch black flames grow.
“Eat your own fire, asshole!” Kazan laughed, watching as the entire umbrella lit up.
And for once, Azarin just smiled.
“You’re more cunning than expected,” she remarked quietly. “I… I…”
A wide, cruel, almost lustful smile spread across those noble, formerly demure features.
“I’m starting to grow a bit hungry.” The Overseer let the flames cover her own body, until she was wallowing in pitch black darkness.
And then-
“DODGE!”
Arjuna just barely jumped out of the way, crashing against the black tiled floor.
“Holy shit… what was that-”
His eyes went wide. As the younger mercenary turned to check on Kazan…
The lanky healer had hit the floor, laying on his back. He groaned. Head up. Shaking the confusion out of his face.
“Munch… burp . Ah. Delicious,” remarked the writhing mass of black flames. Blood stained Azarin’s mouth, coating the center of her gothic dress. Her toothy smile had bits of meat between each tooth.
That’s when Kazan finally felt it. His gaze slowly went down. Until he was looking at… the cauterized stump, where his left arm used to be.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”