A blinding ray of light shot through the vaulted ceilings of the throne room, sundering the marble pillars and turning the once-sanctuary to dust. Fragments of gilded statues were scattered across the shattered dais. Grand tapestries detailing the lineages and legacies of rulers had been burned to cinders, their silken threads curling to ash in the air. Millennia of history had been lost in the blink of an eye.

From the gaping wounds in the walls, they came: horrifying, disfigured creatures with bodies of twisted sinew, each adorned with a shimmering silver carapace. They poured through every breach like a tide of living nightmares, hundreds of sharpened claws scraping against stone. The monsters dug through the rubble with an insatiable appetite, their cold, depthless eyes restlessly searching for any sign of life. The king was gone. The throne of Axiune stood abandoned, but the Xeth were hungry.

Far below the earth, the tremors of destruction rumbled through the tunnels, shaking dust and debris from the jagged ceiling. A procession of warriors moved forward in solemn silence, holding a tight formation. At their center walked a man draped in tattered finery, using his ornately carved staff as a walking stick. Though his regalia was now worn by soot and travel, he held himself proudly.

“My king,” came a steady voice from the front. The speaker was a woman clad in golden armor that gleamed faintly in the dim light. Her brows were furrowed beneath the brim of her helm, which was emblazoned with the crest of Axiune’s kingsguard. “We are nearing the antechamber.”

“Very good, Captain Edyra.” King Zel’neth nodded in response, his tone deep and deliberate. He raised and lowered his staff rhythmically as they strode forth into the darkness, a soft blue light flittering through the runes carved into its shaft. “The weapon awaits. We must pray that the capital continues to hold.”

Soon, the tunnel opened up into a vast, cavernous chamber, the air thick with an ancient musk. Four tall, monolithic walls enclosed the space, each covered with thousands of roughly hewn markings and symbols. The party’s footsteps cut through the silence as they approached the heart of the space, where the floor dipped into a shallow hollow, its edge perfectly defined as if carved by the gods themselves. A ring of runes surrounded it, their symbols sharper and clearer than those scrawled on the walls.

The guards split their formation, allowing the king to approach the hollow alone. Edyra watched him through narrowed, curious eyes as he promptly planted his staff in the center of the ring. The runes flared instantly, blue light crawling out like tendrils that spread across the ground.

Edyra took a step back, startled by the shift in the flow of mana. “My king… what is this place?”

“The Cradle.” He murmured in response. “Long ago, this place was thought to be the origin of magic in this world.”

“And now, it is the place where we make our final stand…” Edyra whispered reverently.

“I will prepare the weapon.” The king’s eyes fluttered shut, an intense, yet focused expression adorning his weathered face. He began to mutter a gutteral, throaty chant under his breath, the words foreign to Edyra’s ears despite having been entrusted to the kingsguard for nearly a decade.

As the king’s utterances echoed throughout the strange room, the staff lifted from his grasp, propelled by light. Slowly, the room itself seemed to come alive, the air humming with energy. Runes across the walls blazed to life, the lines between them pulsing like veins. Wisps of raw mana lifted from the runes and swirled about the soldiers in graceful arcs, brushing against their skin.

A deafening crash shattered the stillness, snapping the soldiers from their trance. The crumbling of rock came from within the tunnel behind them, followed swiftly by the unmistakable skittering of chitin.

“Soldiers, to arms! Protect the king at all costs!” Captain Edyra’s voice cut through the chaos. She drew a solemn, focused breath, crossing her arms in front of her chest in salute. The air shimmered around her as she drank in the freefloating mana, twin claws of light materializing around her hands.

Three Xeth erupted through the entrance to the chamber at once, their movements a blur of silver and sinew as they lunged straight at the king with inhuman precision and speed. Edyra met the fastest of the creatures head-on, piercing clean through the unprotected underside of the Xeth’s head with her honed claws. The creature collapsed, black ichor splattering across the stone floor.

The remaining guards fought with strength born from desperation, holding their formation against the oncoming monstrous assault. One by one, the men and women were slowly picked off and slaughtered in cold blood, but they were holding the line for now. Edyra grimaced and pressed ahead of the group toward the entrance, offering a silent prayer for the fighters as their brave shouts and chilling screams echoed through the cavern.

More Xeth piled into the chamber, and Edyra met them with full force, carving through them with fluid, furious grace. Yet, for every beast she slew, two more would appear in their place.

A lone creature broke through the line, darting hungrily for the king. Edyra cursed under her breath, tearing her weapons from the neck of the Xeth she was fighting to whirl around and give chase. The beast was fast, but she was faster. With a roar, she charged alongside it, slicing through the soft joints where carapace met flesh. The monster cried out in pain, doubling back from Edyra’s attack. It hissed and changed its target, viciously striking out at the captain with both front talons. Edyra crossed her claws in front of her, grunting as she was knocked back by the force of the massive creature’s attack.

Before she could fully recover, another Xeth tore from the faltering line of soldiers, charging straight at her. Edyra attempted to turn to deflect the blow, but was firmly butted in the chest, knocking the wind from her lungs. Her weapons dissipated as she flew through the air and tumbled to the ground several meters away, the world spinning around her.

The sound of pulsing blood filled her ears, her heavy breathing echoing painfully inside her skull. She slowly righted herself, her vision still swimming. Through the haze, she watched helplessly while a Xeth gleefully slaughtered the last of her comrades. Only she and the king remained. With no more soldiers in their way, the Xeth stalked toward their ultimate prey, who was oblivious to the monsters closing in.

“My king!” Edyra shrieked in horror as a Xeth lunged. Its talon struck, but was deflected by a thin veil of blue light. The creature reeled back, furiously snarling as it attempted to claw the barrier again and again. The others quickly joined in until the barrier’s light was completely snuffed out of Edyra’s view.

Without warning, the Xeth were sent flying in all directions. The king stood unscathed, swathed in the intense glow of mana. His eyes glowed like sapphires as he stared toward the cavern's mouth intently. With one grand motion, he flung his arms forward, gathering the swirling wisps of mana into a beam. It struck just above the entrance, collapsing the rock in a thunderous avalanche that sealed the passage shut.

“Captain.” He spoke solemnly, turning his attention to Edyra. “Come. Hurry.”

Edyra forced herself upright, the hiss of the recovering Xeth slowly filling the chamber. She dutifully got to her feet, summoning her claws. “Of course. How can I-”

“Listen carefully.” He interrupted, closing his eyes and holding his hands above his staff. The brilliant glow surrounding him dimmed as his mana poured into the weapon. As he did, its shape began to twist and warp, as if it was made of energy rather than a firm material of reality. Before her eyes, the staff folded in upon itself, condensing into a perfect, radiant pyramid.

“You will take this,” He said, offering it to her, “And enter the chamber ahead.”

Edyra hesitated, a deep concern gnawing at her throat. “But… You should be the one to-”

“No. You are our last hope, Captain. There is no one more qualified nor more skilled that I’d rather entrust the fate of our people to.”

Edyra could not hide the conflict in her expression as she stared pleadingly at the king, who held firm.

“I understand your hesitance. The cost is… well…” The king paused, sighing deeply as he placed his free hand on her shoulder. “We will forever be indebted to you.”

Silence festered between them, the air growing heavy with the weight of the world now resting on the young woman’s shoulders.

“Very well.” She nodded solemnly. “For our people.” She whispered, reaching out and wrapping her hands around the pyramid. It was warm and cold. Soft and hard. Smooth and rough. She’d never felt anything like it before. Was she holding pure mana?

The king’s expression grew sorrowful for a heartbeat, wordlessly extending his farewell. Before Edyra could comment, the Xeth began to stir again.

“Go.” He commanded. With a wave of his hand, a hidden doorway appeared within the far wall, slowly sliding into the floor.

Edyra mustered up the last of her courage, taking off toward the door. Behind her, the sound of battle erupted once more, only visible as bursts of light and shadow reflected upon the stone in front of her. She risked a final glance back and was relieved to see the king masterfully fending off the Xeth, deflecting their blows with barrier after barrier and blasting them with what light he had remaining.

As Edyra stood in the doorway, it began to close in front of her. As much as she wanted to look forward to the path ahead, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the fighting. Her heart sank as Xeth broke through the rubble in front of the entrance, a void of black and silver bodies pouring into the room.

“King Zel’neth!” She called as the crack of light narrowed to a mere sliver. “I’ll protect Axiune… always!”

The door sealed shut, and only darkness remained.

Words by Echo Seeker Lermy