Chapter 590: Ouroboros and Tiamat, lost
Ouroboros walked silently, her bare feet sinking into the soft forest floor. Each step produced a muffled sound of crunching dry leaves, mixed with the distant echo of insects and birds hidden beneath the closed canopy. The air was heavy, humid, and slled of wet earth and ancient moss.
Behind her, Tiamat followed with firm but no less cautious steps. Despite the strength they both possessed, an invisible weight weighed on her shoulders: mory loss, uncertainty, the absence of the others.
The silence between them dragged on, until Ouroboros, unable to bear her own unease, spoke:
“Do you… rember anything?” Her voice was low, almost hesitant, as if afraid of the answer.
Tiamat looked up at the canopy above, where sunlight barely penetrated the massive leaves. There was a forced serenity on her face as she answered:
“No. Just the storm.” She narrowed her eyes, as if trying to force the mory. “I was flying, the clouds swallowed everything, and then… nothing. I only rember opening my eyes in this place.”
Ouroboros sighed, looking down at the ground. “The sa thing happened to .” She ran her fingers through her hair, still damp from the sea air. “I can only rember a flash… and then, the taste of the sand on the beach where I woke up.”
The two of them paused for a mont, listening to the sounds of the forest around them. A rustle in the distant canopy made Ouroboros raise her hand in alert. Tiamat imdiately took a step back, her eyes alert. But they soon realized it was just a group of colorful birds taking flight, their wings scattering green and red reflections in the filtered light.
“This place…” Ouroboros murmured, looking around. “It doesn’t look natural.”
And indeed, it didn’t. The trees were gigantic, their trunks so wide that three people holding hands couldn’t possibly walk around them. Their twisted roots erged from the ground like living walls, forming arches and passages that resembled stone corridors. The ground was covered in sprawling ferns and crimson flowers that exuded a sweet, almost cloying scent.
“It feels like a forgotten kingdom,” Tiamat agreed, touching the bark of a tree that pulsed with a viscous moisture, as if the forest were breathing. “But I don’t sense magic in this place… or rather, I do, but it’s sothing… ancient. Wild.”
Ouroboros narrowed her eyes. The silence between them returned, heavy. Until, suddenly, the doubt that gnawed at her chest escaped her lips:
“Do you think Strax is okay?”
The question hung in the air for a few seconds, until Tiamat answered firmly:
“Strax is…” She smirked, though her gaze remained serious. “Strax is too stubborn to die. He’s survived things that would bring down anyone else.”
Ouroboros nodded slowly, but his unease didn’t lessen. “Still… I can’t help but wonder. What if…”
“No,” Tiamat cut in firmly. “We won’t let ourselves fall into despair. He’ll survive. What we need to do now is find the others.”
Ouroboros took a deep breath, forcing a nod of agreent.
They continued walking, and little by little the forest revealed more of its secrets. Hollow trees ford passages that resembled natural tunnels. So stones were covered in symbols that didn’t seem to be the work of nature: circular markings, precisely engraved, almost runic. When Ouroboros ran his fingers over one of them, he felt a slight shiver run down his skin.
“Did you see this?” he asked, catching Tiamat’s attention.
The other woman approached, observing the symbols with attentive eyes. “Yes. This isn’t a coincidence. Soone was here before us.” She bent down, touching one of the marks. “And it was a long ti ago.”
The silence of the forest seed to thicken, as if it had heard the comnt. A sudden wind blew through the trees, making the leaves rustle like a chorus of whispers.
“I don’t like this…” Ouroboros murmured, raising his hand defensively.
Tiamat, however, stood her ground. “It doesn’t matter what it is. If there’s intelligent life here, perhaps there are answers too.”
They continued, dodging colossal roots and crossing clearings bathed in rays of golden sunlight. In one of them was a small lake, its crystal-clear waters reflecting the sky like a mirror broken by falling leaves.
Ouroboros knelt at the edge of the lake, running his hand over its surface. “Drinkable water. That’s all, at least.”
She drank, feeling the coolness, and splashed so on her face. The reflection in the lake reflected her own image, but for a mont, she swore she saw sothing move behind her. She turned sharply, but there was nothing. Only Tiamat watching her, alert.
“You’re too tense,” Tiamat said. “If we get nervous, we won’t see what really matters.”
Ouroboros frowned. “What if what matters is precisely what we don’t want to see?”
Tiamat didn’t answer. She simply approached the lake, drinking as well.
The silence stretched on, until they both resud walking.
With each step, the surroundings seed to subtly change. The intense green of the trees gave way to darker tones. The ground beca damper, almost swampy, and the air took on a tallic sll, like dried blood.
Ouroboros looked at Tiamat, and they both understood, without needing to say anything: they were not in an ordinary forest.
“We need to mark the path,” Ouroboros suggested, breaking the silence. “If we get lost here, we’ll never get out.”
She tore a piece of fabric from her own clothing and tied it to a low branch. Every few ters, she repeated the gesture, creating a makeshift trail.
Ti passed without them noticing. The sunlight was already fading when they encountered sothing unexpected: a building.
It was a stone arch, partially covered by roots and moss, but still standing. The columns were engraved with the sa symbols they had seen before, only on a larger scale.
Ouroboros approached, touching the inscriptions. “This… is a ruin.”
Tiamat nodded, looking around. “Which ans this island was once inhabited.”
“Or still is…” Ouroboros added, her voice low.
The wind blew again, cold, carrying the distant sound of sothing that wasn’t just wind.
The two fell silent, instinctively moving closer to each other. Despite all the uncertainty, one thing was clear: they were together. And that, in that mont, was all that mattered.
“Whoever built this… perhaps they’re still here,” Tiamat said, her gaze fixed on the darkness the arch held.
“Then we’d better be prepared,” Ouroboros replied, raising his hand, as if summoning the last bit of energy he had left.
Neither of them knew what they would find in that place, but they both knew they couldn’t retreat. Not while Strax and the others remained missing.
And so, side by side, Ouroboros and Tiamat entered the ruin.
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