"Is everyone alright?" she asked, scanning the group for injuries.

  Callum was helping Astra to her feet, his body slowly returning to its normal form. Ren stood with hands still raised, the golden light of his runes fading gradually as he confirmed the threat had passed. The Netherkin moved with their usual fluid grace, apparently unharmed.

  "What were they?" Astra asked, wiping black ichor from her blade. "I mean, I know they were Fluxbeasts, but..."

  "Bondless," Callum muttered. “Their bondmates died, or were killed. Whenever that happens, Fluxbeasts go rogue. They become violent. Dangerous.”

  “And the corruption doesn’t seem to have helped,” Ren said grimly. “I’ve never seen a Fluxbeast altered by Netherkin magic before. Even a rogue Fluxbeast will normally take on comprehensible forms. Those were… different.”

  Faye watched as the last motes of Flux energy dissipated—remnants of lost bonds and corrupted grief. She thought of the humans who had once been connected to these creatures, wondered who they had been and how they had died.

  "We should keep moving," Callum said, his voice unusually subdued. "If those things were transformed by proximity to the epicenter..."

  Ren finished his thought. "Then what awaits us at the center itself could be far worse."

  CHAPTER NINE

  The air changed first. Faye's lungs filled with something that tasted of copper and decay, a metallic tang that coated her tongue and made her want to spit. She had crossed into Netherkin territory before, but never this deep, never this willingly. The corrupted land stretched before them like an open wound on the continent's skin, its flora twisting in ways that defied nature's design. No human had walked this path by choice in generations, and with each step forward, Faye understood why.

  "Keep close," Callum murmured from ahead, his voice tight with tension. "We don't know what might respond to our presence here."

  The expedition party moved in near silence, footfalls muffled against soil that seemed to absorb sound rather than reflect it. Beside Faye, Ember padded forward in fox form, ears pricked and alert, amber eyes scanning the distorted underbrush. The Fluxbeast's fur bristled along its spine, a clear indication of its unease.

  Trees rose on either side of the makeshift path, their trunks glistening with a slick, unnatural sheen. Faye watched as the bark pulsed rhythmically, expanding and contracting like the chest of some sleeping giant. She fought the urge to reach out and touch one, to confirm that what her eyes perceived was real.

  "The trees are alive," she whispered to Ren, who walked at her side, his fingers tracing nervous patterns over the runic tattoos that spiraled up his forearms.

  "Everything here is alive," he replied, voice equally hushed. "Just not in any way we'd recognize."

  Ahead of them, Burns With Wrath and Fears No End moved with fluid grace, their elongated limbs bending at angles that made Faye's joints ache in sympathy. The Netherkin Warriors showed no discomfort in this twisted landscape—if anything, they seemed more at ease than they had in the human territories they'd traversed.

  Astra lingered behind the Warriors, her bow half-drawn, eyes narrowed with suspicion. The tension in her shoulders had not eased since they'd left Thornhaven weeks ago. Faye understood her wariness, but couldn't help feeling that the constant vigilance was wearing on everyone.

  The path widened before them, opening into a clearing dominated by something so strange that Faye halted mid-step, breath catching in her throat. A massive structure rose from the earth like a monument to corruption—part bone, part wood, its surface covered in honeycomb-like hexagonal patterns that pulsed with a faint violet light. It towered above the surrounding vegetation, a petrified husk of something that defied categorization.

  "What is that?" Faye asked, unable to tear her eyes away from the grotesque wonder before them.

  Knows The Truth stepped forward, its translucent skin rippling as it moved. The Netherkin Mage's eyes glowed a pale blue, scanning the structure with what appeared to be recognition.

  This was once a convergence point, it said, the telepathic intrusion causing Faye to wince despite her growing familiarity with it. When the Elite first arrived to terraform this region, they used such structures as anchors for the corruption.

  "It's breathing," Ren observed, pointing to the almost imperceptible rise and fall of the structure's sides.

  It is neither alive nor dead, Knows The Truth replied. It exists in a state of suspension, maintaining the corruption in this area.

  Faye circled the structure, keeping a cautious distance. "It's like what we saw in Tirimund, in a way. Before the Void Shaper, that is. Organic life fused together. And still living.”

  This area, like Tirimund and all other epicenters of our invasion, was terraformed directly by Elites rather than their lesser castes, Knows The Truth explained, its mental voice carrying a note of reverence that made Faye uncomfortable. The Elite possess powers of transformation that far exceed those of Mages like myself.

  Faye's attention was drawn to a cluster of strange plants at the base of the structure. Unlike the pulsing trees, these were smaller, with fleshy stems and bulbous growths that reminded her of closed flower buds. One seemed to shudder as she approached, its surface rippling like disturbed water.

  Curiosity overcame caution. Kneeling, Faye extended her hand toward the trembling plant. It recoiled at first, shrinking away from her fingers, then suddenly erupted open. What had appeared to be petals were revealed as serrated, tooth-like protrusions that snapped at the air hungrily.

  Ember leapt forward with a snarl, placing itself between Faye and the plant. The Fluxbeast's hackles rose, its form shimmering with barely contained energy, ready to shift into its wolf shape at the first sign of danger.

  Faye pulled her hand back, but felt disgust rather than fear. After everything she'd faced in recent years—Netherkin Warriors, Elites, a Void Shaper—a carnivorous plant hardly registered as a threat.

  "It's fine, Ember," she soothed, placing a calming hand on the Fluxbeast's back. "Just another twisted creation."

  She stood, surveying the rot and corruption that surrounded them. This was the legacy of the Netherkin invasion—a world reshaped into something alien and hostile, beauty perverted into horror. For years, she had fought against this corruption, had sworn to eliminate those who brought it.

  Her eyes found Ren's across the clearing. In his golden gaze, she saw understanding, the same instinct that pulled at her own hands—the urge to begin their cleansing ritual, to draw the runic patterns that could reverse the corruption, even if only in a small area. They had perfected the technique over the past year, traveling to areas affected by Netherkin influence and slowly healing the land.

  But they knew better than to attempt it here, at an epicenter of corruption this powerful. The last time they had tried such a thing was in Tirimund, and the consequences had been catastrophic. Their efforts had inadvertently created a weakness in reality that the Void Shaper had exploited to break through into their world.

  Ren shook his head slightly, a silent acknowledgment of their shared restraint. Faye nodded in return, swallowing her frustration.

  "How far does this corruption extend?" Callum asked, breaking the heavy silence.

  The terraforming radiates outward from this point for approximately fifteen miles in all directions, Knows The Truth replied. Beyond that, the corruption becomes less severe, though still present. The Elite who supervised this transformation was particularly thorough. This is often the case for the epicenters; the terraforming is more exact than that performed by lesser castes.

  "You keep saying 'lesser castes,'" Ren observed, his tone carefully neutral. "That’s a rather hierarchical term, wouldn’t you say?”

  Knows The Truth's skin rippled with what Faye had come to recognize as discomfort. You are correct to point this out. It is... difficult to shed the language of a lifetime. I am trying to avoid such ways of thought. But it is true that the Elite possess far greater magic and abilities that surpass all their… inferiors. Knows The Truth stopped abruptly, seeming to realize its mistake.

  Ren's lips quirked upward, not quite a smile. "There you go again. 'Inferiors.' That's exactly the kind of thinking you're supposedly trying to change, isn't it?"

  Faye felt a pulse through the communication artifact she carried—a warm, bubbling sensation that she interpreted as amusement. She glanced at Keeps Its Vows, who stood nearby, its head tilted slightly as it observed the exchange. The Netherkin Scout's eyes glowed a faint amber, a color Faye had come to associate with its more positive emotions.

  Curious, Faye approached Keeps Its Vows. "What was it like for you?" she asked, her fingers tightening around the communication device. "As a Scout, interacting with Elites? What did that feel like?"

  Keeps Its Vows turned to her, its elongated head canting to one side. No verbal or telepathic response came—Scouts lacked the ability to communicate telepathically as Mages could—but through the artifact, Faye felt the answer.

  The sensation flooded her consciousness: bone-deep dread, marrow-cold fear. Not the sharp spike of sudden terror, but something deeper and more insidious—the constant awareness of being utterly at another's mercy. A memory of being seen and known, but not in any comforting way. The impression of forced submission, of being subjected to power that saw its victims as utterly insignificant.

  Faye gasped, nearly dropping the artifact as the intensity of the emotion washed over her. The feeling was hauntingly familiar. She had experienced it herself when confronted by a Netherkin Elite for the first time—that sense of being reduced to nothing, of facing something that viewed her as less than an insect to be crushed.

  "I know that feeling," she said softly, meeting Keeps' glowing eyes. "I felt the same way when I faced an Elite. It's... it's like being seen through rather than seen."

  Keeps' eyes pulsed brighter for a moment, and another emotion came through the artifact—surprise, followed by a tentative warmth that Faye interpreted as recognition. Understanding. They had more in common than she had thought.

  Faye turned to Knows The Truth, still holding the artifact. "What about you? As a Mage, what was it like to interact with Elites?"

  Knows The Truth hesitated, its skin rippling with complex patterns. It was... different for Mages. We were valued for our abilities, granted certain privileges that Scouts and Warriors were not.

  The telepathic answer was measured, controlled—but through the artifact, Faye sensed a different response entirely. A new sensation came through: clarity, sharpened purpose, like a blade honed until it could split light. Pride, yes, but a hollow sort, granted by proximity to power rather than earned through merit. And alongside it, unmistakable shame.

  Faye took a breath, attempting to articulate what she felt. "So... you were empowered by them... but only as a weapon. You felt close to power, but never felt free."

  Knows The Truth said nothing, but Faye could tell she had described the feeling correctly. The pulse of sorrow that flowed through the artifact confirmed it—a deep, aching regret for a life lived in service to a hierarchy that had never truly valued any of them as individuals.

  "Do you feel free now?" Ren asked, his voice low, the question hanging in the air between them.

  Knows The Truth didn't answer right away. The air grew still, as though the strange forest itself was holding its breath, waiting for the response. The corrupted plants ceased their subtle movements, and even the distant sounds of the expedition party seemed to fade.

  Sometimes, it finally said, the mental voice softer than Faye had ever heard it. In moments of quiet. In moments of purpose shared rather than imposed. Freedom is... an unfamiliar sensation for my kind. We learn it slowly.

  Faye felt a strong surge of emotion through the artifact, so powerful that her hand trembled with its intensity. It came from Keeps Its Vows—a feeling so pure and unmitigated that it took her breath away. Freedom. Not the tentative, questioning freedom that Knows The Truth described, but something wild and certain, a knowledge bone-deep and unshakable.

  She looked at the Netherkin Scout with new eyes. For all its alienness, all its otherness, Keeps Its Vows knew what freedom meant.

  "We should continue," Callum called from ahead, breaking the moment. "We've still got a long way to go before we reach the epicenter."

  Faye nodded, tucking the communication artifact away but keeping the emotions it had revealed close to her heart. They resumed their trek through the corrupted landscape, the twisted trees and breathing plants no less disturbing than before.

  The petrified husk loomed behind them as they moved deeper into the terraformed territory, a monument to what the Netherkin had been—corruptors of the human world, a scourge to all life. Ahead lay the uncertain path to what they might become.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Callum watched the violet sky pulse above their makeshift camp, its strange glow casting shadows that seemed to breathe across the glassy crater floor. The expedition had chosen this hollow of stone for their final rest before attempting the crossing—a depression in the earth that offered some semblance of shelter from whatever might be lurking in the corrupted lands beyond. He flexed his fingers, feeling the memory of Tirimund's horrors crawl beneath his skin. This place was tame by comparison, merely unsettling rather than maddening, but the wrongness of it all still plucked at his nerves like discordant strings.

  The crater's walls rose in jagged formations of obsidian and something else—a mineral he'd never seen before, crystalline and faintly luminescent, as though it had absorbed the light of another world entirely. Their small fire cast dancing light across its surface, refracting into patterns that seemed almost deliberate, almost like writing.

  Callum turned away from the walls and let his gaze drift across their party. Knows The Truth sat motionless at the far edge of camp, its elongated form eerily still as it communed with whatever passed for dreams among the Netherkin. The two Warriors—Burns With Wrath and Fears No End—had positioned themselves at opposite sides of the crater's rim, sentinels against the encroaching night. Their bodies blended with the darkness so completely that only the occasional shift of movement revealed their presence.

  His eyes settled on Faye and Ren, huddled close on a smooth outcropping of stone. They spoke in hushed tones, their heads bent together in an intimacy that excluded the rest of the world. Faye's hand rested on Ren's, her thumb tracing absent patterns across his knuckles.

  Two seasons ago, the sight would have twisted his gut with jealousy. Now, Callum smiled as he watched the two of them, the bitterness long since drained away, replaced by a steadier warmth.

  Tempest stirred against his thigh, the Fluxbeast's tiny squirrel form radiating warmth disproportionate to its size. Callum ran a finger along its spine, smiling as the creature's tail flicked in contentment. In the early days at Thornhaven, he had been embarrassed by Tempest's initial diminutive form, so different from the fearsome beasts bonded to other students. Now he understood the advantage of inconspicuousness, of strength disguised as weakness.

  "Restless tonight," he murmured to the Fluxbeast. Tempest chirped softly, black eyes glittering with an intelligence that belied its simple appearance. Since the encounter with the Void Shaper, Callum had noticed subtle changes in his bond with Tempest—a deeper awareness, as though the brush with ancient power had awakened something primal in both of them.

  Across the camp, Astra sat cross-legged on her bedroll, the firelight catching the sharp planes of her face. Her hands moved with practiced precision as she worked on sharpening arrowheads, the familiar ritual lending her an air of calm purpose. But there was something else in her expression—an expectancy, a tension held in the corners of her mouth that Callum had learned to read over their months together.

  He rose silently, leaving Tempest curled by the fire. The Fluxbeast opened one eye to track his movement, then settled back into its doze, apparently unconcerned by his leaving. Callum picked his way around the scattered gear of their expedition, nodding once to Keeps Its Vows as the Scout acknowledged his passing with a subtle tilt of its elongated head.

  Astra didn't look up as he approached, though he knew she was aware of his presence. Her hands never faltered in their task, the whetstone sliding along the edge of the arrowhead with a soft, rhythmic whisper.

  "Walk with me?" Callum asked, his voice low.

  Now she looked up, her dark eyes reflecting the flames. "Tired of watching the lovebirds?" There was no bite to her words, only a gentle teasing.

  "Something like that." He extended his hand, and after a moment's hesitation, she took it, sliding her whetstone into a pouch at her belt.

  They moved away from the camp without speaking, following a natural path through the brittle, knee-high grass that had somehow taken root in this blighted place. It crackled beneath their boots, hollow and dry, as though it had never known rain. The sound carried in the still air, marking their passage like a warning.

  Callum felt the weight of the Warriors' gazes on their backs as they walked, but neither Netherkin moved to follow. Perhaps they understood something of human need for privacy, or perhaps they simply deemed the immediate area safe enough that two skilled fighters could venture a short distance without escort.

  They walked until the camp was visible only as a faint orange glow in the distance, just far enough for privacy but not so far that they couldn't return quickly if needed. The terrain here was eerily stable—unlike the corrupted heart of Tirimund, where the ground itself had seemed to breathe and pulse with malevolent life. Here, at the edges of the Netherkin's influence, the corruption was more subtle: plants that grew in impossible formations, stones that seemed to shift position when viewed from the corner of one's eye. Fewer things with unnatural teeth. Fewer things that wanted to kill them.

  "Far enough?" Astra asked, coming to a halt beside an outcropping of the same glassy stone that formed their crater camp.

 

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