Kael's POV
"Maya, step away from that stone."
My voice came out harder than I meant, but I didn't care. She was staring at the opened lock like it might bite her. No—worse. Like she'd done something terrible.
"There's something behind it," she whispered. "Something looking at me."
I moved to her side, scanning the carved stone. The lock stood open, glowing faintly. And behind it—
My blood turned to ice.
A crack. Thin as a hair. But through it, I could see... movement. Shadows that didn't match any light source. And yes—something was watching. I could feel its attention like weight on my shoulders.
"Everyone back," Shen ordered, his scales rippling with tension. "Now."
We retreated, but the thing's gaze followed Maya specifically. Hungry. Patient.
"I opened it," she said, voice breaking. "The trial said to open the first lock. I thought—I thought I was supposed to—"
"You did what you had to," I interrupted, pulling her against my chest. She was shaking. "You survived the realm of the dead. You saved us from the Wraith. None of this is your fault."
"But what if opening the locks is releasing something? What if the trials aren't tests—they're just steps to free whatever that thing is?"
Riven limped closer to the stone, studying it with his sharp hawk eyes. "The prophecy said three keys before the darkness wakes. One lock open means it's still mostly sealed. We have time."
"Time for what?" Maya pulled away from me, frustration replacing fear. "To figure out how to close it? To complete the other two trials? To run?"
"To get stronger," Torrin said firmly. He was holding his wounded side, but his voice was solid. "You said it yourself earlier—we need to build something. Make this valley defensible. If something comes through that crack, we need to be ready."
Maya stared at him. Then at each of us. "You're right. We can't panic. We need a plan." Her scientist brain was taking over, pushing down terror with logic. "First priority: treating everyone's wounds. We're useless if we die from infection."
"We have no medicine," Shen reminded her gently.
"Then we make some." Her jaw set with that determination I was starting to recognize. "I need plants. Specific ones. Riven, can you fly with that wing?"
He tested it, wincing. "Short distances."
"Good enough. I need you to search for anything with white flowers or leaves that smell like mint. Kael, I need clean water—boiled if possible. Torrin, despite that wound, you're the strongest. I need you to gather dry wood for fire. And Shen—" she turned to the serpent "—I need your venom."
"My venom will kill you," he said flatly.
"Not if I dilute it properly. In small doses, venom can fight infection." She saw our skeptical faces. "Trust me. I'm a biochemist. I literally studied this stuff."
We exchanged glances. Her plan sounded insane. But we'd already bet our lives on her once today.
"Fine," I said. "But you rest while we gather supplies. You just walked through the realm of the dead. You need—"
"I need to save you all before those wounds get worse." Her eyes were fierce. "Move. Now."
So we moved.
I found myself smiling despite everything. This tiny female who'd appeared from nowhere was ordering us around like soldiers. And we were obeying without question.
When had that happened?
An hour later, we'd gathered what she needed. Maya worked with steady hands, mixing plants Riven found with boiled water, adding drops of Shen's venom so diluted it shouldn't kill. Probably.
"This will hurt," she warned, approaching Torrin first.
"Everything hurts," he rumbled. "Do your worst."
She cleaned his wound with the mixture. Torrin's jaw clenched, but he didn't make a sound. When she finished, the angry redness around the gash was already fading.
"It's working," Shen said, surprised. "The infection is retreating."
"Told you." Maya moved to Riven's wing next, then Shen's exhausted frame, then finally to me.
Her small hands on my torn chest were gentle. Careful. I watched her face as she worked—intense concentration, like I was the most important thing in the world.
"Thank you," I said quietly. "For coming back. For fighting. For not giving up in that realm."
She met my eyes. "I heard you screaming for me when I fell. All of you. You bonded your souls to keep me anchored." Her voice cracked. "How could I not come back?"
"Because it was the realm of the dead. Because you could have stayed. Found peace."
"Peace isn't worth much if the people you care about are suffering." She finished bandaging my chest. "Besides, you four are stuck with me now. That bond thing is permanent, right?"
"Completely," Shen confirmed. "We're connected until death. You'll feel our emotions. We'll feel yours. In danger, we'll sense each other."
"Good." She said it like it was settled. Like choosing to be bound to four broken outcasts forever was obvious. "Then we need to make sure we all survive whatever comes next."
She stood, looking around the barren valley. "Torrin was right earlier. We need to build. Not just shelter—a real settlement. Defensible. Self-sufficient. A place where we can actually thrive, not just survive."
"In this wasteland?" Riven asked skeptically.
"This wasteland has potential." Her eyes lit up—that scientist spark. "Volcanic soil is incredibly fertile. With proper irrigation, crop rotation, and water management, we could grow enough food for hundreds. The valley has natural defensive positions. Those rocks could be quarried for building materials. The hot springs I smelled earlier could provide warmth and sanitation."
We stared at her.
"You smelled hot springs?" I asked.
"Sulfur scent on the wind. Southwest direction. Probably underground." She waved it away like it was obvious. "The point is, this valley isn't cursed. It's just unmanaged. Give me time and your strength, and I'll transform it into paradise."
"That's impossible," I said.
"So was surviving the dead realm." She smiled. "So was defeating Varak's army with strategy. So was four outcasts bonding to save a stranger. We seem to specialize in impossible."
Torrin laughed—actually laughed. It was a sound I hadn't heard from him in years. "I'm in. Tell me where to dig."
"Me too," Riven added.
Shen nodded. "If we're doing impossible things, might as well go all in."
They looked at me. I was the unofficial leader of our broken group. My choice mattered.
I looked at Maya—this fierce, brilliant, insane female who'd walked through death and come back with building plans. Who believed barren wasteland could become paradise.
Who made me believe it too.
"We build," I said. "Together."
Her smile could have lit the whole valley.
For the next three days, we worked. Maya directed us with surprising authority. Torrin dug irrigation channels where she indicated. Shen calculated water flow and helped design aqueducts. Riven scouted for resources and wild seeds. I hunted to keep us fed.
And slowly—impossibly—things changed.
Water flowed where Maya designed it. The volcanic soil accepted seeds Riven found. The valley started looking less like a wasteland and more like... potential.
On the third night, exhausted and sore, we gathered around our fire. Maya was teaching us about crop rotation, her hands moving as she explained.
She looked happy. Really happy.
That's when the ground began to shake.
Not like before. Worse. The entire valley trembled. Cracks spread across the ground. And from the Bleeding Stone—from that tiny crack behind the first lock—something pressed.
Testing its prison.
The stone guardians voice echoed across the valley: "The first seal weakens. Two locks remain closed. But the darkness grows impatient. When the second lock opens, it will have power to send its servants. Prepare yourselves, builders of paradise. The true war begins soon."
We all looked at each other. Then at Maya.
She squared her shoulders. "Then we build faster. Build stronger. Because I'm not letting whatever's behind that gate take this from us." She looked around at what we'd started—the channels, the plans, the hope. "We're creating something worth fighting for."
"Agreed," I said.
But privately, I wondered: when the second trial came, would we be strong enough to face what followed?
The answer came at dawn.
A figure appeared at the valley entrance. Humanoid but wrong. Its skin was gray as ash, its eyes empty black voids. It wore armor made of darkness itself.
When it spoke, its voice was the crack speaking through it: "The Herald of Locks has arrived. The second trial begins in three days. The Key-bearer must walk the Path of Flames, or the darkness claims this world by force."
It vanished like smoke.
Maya stood frozen, staring at where it had been.
"Three days," she whispered. "I have three days to build this place into a fortress and prepare for a trial that might kill me."
She looked at us, fear and determination warring in her eyes.
"Help me?"
We moved as one, surrounding her. Four broken males who'd found purpose in one impossible female.
"Always," I promised. "Until the very end."
What I didn't say: I was terrified the end was coming much sooner than any of us wanted.