Piercing screams echoed inside the spire, and Riley might have felt the need to be nervous—if those screams hadn’t been his own.
"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"
Yes. Without question. Those were the sounds of one very vocalized aide.
He was currently out there shrieking as the dragon lord "proved" that he valued Riley’s ti enough to shorten the duration it would take them to reach the sanctum.
Utter bull.
Because in reality, the elven guards had very clearly told them no. The spire would be going into what they dubbed a mana purge tomorrow, and they claid they couldn’t, in good conscience, allow anyone to enter knowing they’d be locked inside once the mana purge began.
The entire ti they had been explaining that, Riley’s eyes had grown wider and wider, because not a single part of it sounded great to him. But to his utter disbelief, Kael had insisted that they were going in anyway.
Riley had even tried, desperately, to argue that he was perfectly fine not going back in there. But the great golden lizard apparently didn’t care for his thoughts. Instead, Kael had cut him off with a flat, "We have no intention of staying all day, so tomorrow’s purge doesn’t matter."
The guards had looked like they wanted to argue further, but really, against Kael’s glare, who in their right mind could keep insisting?
And that was how Riley found himself in his current screaming situation, because apparently, Kael had his own definition of "speed run."
The spire’s central chamber stretched before them, a hollow shaft of impossible height, vast and cavernous, open from ground floor to the platform just below the sanctum. It was the kind of design that inspired awe at first glance, but right now, all Riley could think was, What fresh hell is this?
Kael stepped forward with absolute confidence, Riley strapped against his chest like the world’s most inconveniently loud front pack. Riley had braced himself, thinking the dragon lord was going to sprint. Motion sickness, at least, he could prepare for.
But no. Running wasn’t in the plan.
Kael crouched low, golden eyes glinting, and then launched himself upward.
Riley’s scream rebounded so hard against the spire walls that it almost sounded like a choir.
Kael wasn’t running. He was leaping, springing from one side of the spire to the other, ricocheting off ledges, beams, and carved ridges as if gravity was nothing but a mild suggestion. Each jump vaulted them multiple floors higher, the ground below shrinking at a terrifying pace.
Riley flailed figuratively, his brain rattling in disbelief. This was not climbing. This was a cri waiting to happen!
And there was no one to even report to.
Because just as the guards had ntioned earlier, there weren’t any others stationed inside due to the upcoming purge.
How...
How convenient?
Apparently, that was the appropriate word, considering what Kael was planning on doing.
Getting to the entrance of the sanctum was nothing short of fast—about a fourth of the ti it had taken during their first visit. Riley might have enjoyed that, except he had been too terrified for his life to appreciate the efficiency. He was pressed so close against Kael he was pretty sure he was ready to rge with his boss’s body out of sheer survival instinct.
If he had thought amusent park rides were terrifying before, well, this was basically that—just worse. Because not only were there no tracks, his seatbelt was also entirely mood-dependent.
What if the ride suddenly decided he was annoying, heavy, or unnecessary? He would end up as mashed potato splattered across the stone floor. And that, Riley thought grimly, would be the fortunate outco. With the way the abyss yawned below every ti he accidentally looked down, he was fairly sure even magic would struggle to reassemble his corpse.
"Huh?"
The world had finally stopped shaking. Riley’s stomach was still lagging behind, but at least the floor wasn’t spinning anymore. Kael had carried his trembling body straight into the sanctum, still wrapped around the ride like an octopus, but as soon as Riley’s brain caught up, the tirade began.
"My Lord, a warning would’ve been nice, you know! What if I had a bad heart? What if I’d died out there? Do you know how dangerous that was? What if I couldn’t hold on and just fell?!"
Kael tilted his head, voice calm, almost amused. "You didn’t seem to have that problem. I’ve checked so many tis. Even after personally witnessing that human heart of yours race on countless occasions, it seems to be working fine. And this talk about not being able to hold on—what nonsense. You’ve always had a vice grip. After clinging to so many tis, your body seems to have gotten used to holding on tight."
Riley made a noise halfway between outrage and embarrassnt and scrambled down from Kael’s hold as fast as dignity allowed. Kael raised an eyebrow at the sudden hop-off, but Riley pressed his hands to his hips with a stiff smile.
"I need to stretch my legs," Riley said crisply. "Blood circulation, you know." His professional smile twitched, and so did his eye. "Although frankly, right now, circulation is the least of my concerns. I should be more worried about my blood pressure."
Internally, he was seething. Why was Kael so talkative all of a sudden? Wasn’t he supposed to be cold, silent, and brooding? Riley wasn’t sure which one he preferred—the dragon lord who rarely spoke, or this one whose mouth desperately needed to be scrubbed with soap and holy water.
Fortunately, the provocations stopped, because they had real business there.
Riley cleared his throat. "Sir... are you seriously planning on using crystals? And if so, what exactly are you planning on doing with them?"
"Yes," Kael said without hesitation. His tone was indifferent, as though they were discussing his daily schedule. "They’re just regular crystals. Duds. Blank."
Riley blinked. That surprised him. He hadn’t even known dragons would carry duds with them.. He stared as Kael scattered a few pieces here and there, so so close to the pedestal that if no one looked closely, they’d blend in with the originals. The only difference was a slight dullness, a lack of luster.
It didn’t even take very long. Just enough ti for Riley to wonder whether he should proceed with his own plans.
But if those crystals would work, he thought, eyes narrowing slightly, then sure enough, his version should be fine too. Right?
Apparently, more than fine.
Because that night, after a certain duo had left even faster than they had arrived, another duo was off to try their luck.
The spire lood like a sentinel against the night sky, its vast column of stone stretching higher than most dared to glance. Inside, the spiraling chambers yawned upward, shadows chasing shadows along the walls.
To the two figures darting up its endless stairs, the place was less a monunt than a labyrinth, a gauntlet that seed designed to wring the breath out of them with every step. Their boots struck in uneven rhythm, too hurried, as though each beat was chased by an invisible pursuer. Behind them, a heavy pack thudded against cloth and bone, a weight neither could ignore.
"We need to move faster," the masked figure hissed, voice muffled but tight with urgency. "We don’t have enough ti."
The second figure, voice sharp yet undeniably female, shot back without slowing. "Exactly. That’s why it would’ve been better if we refused to listen in the first place. If we hadn’t fallen for the taunts, the threats, we wouldn’t be here risking everything now."
The masked one’s reply was quiet, bitter. "And you think I could have said that to our mother? That I could have stood there and told her no? If we had other choices, would anyone actually do it this way?"
Silence pressed between their hurried breaths, broken only by the steady drum of their feet against the stone.
Then the woman muttered under her breath, shrouded by her hood as she ran, "Maybe if soone had taken his one job seriously, none of this would’ve happened."
She expected a retort. So excuse. Sothing sharp to volley back. But instead, the one carrying the pack only said, low and flat, "Yeah. Believe , I know."
The weight of that admission hung heavier than the pack itself.
By the ti they burst into the sanctum, they were barely taking full breaths. Every inhale ca ragged, every exhale a threat to stumble. Yet their hands worked fast, unfastening straps, peeling back layers until the pack spilled open to reveal what shimred within.
A rectangular shape, its surface gleaming faintly, caught the ceiling light and scattered it like broken glass. It was impossible not to look. Even with their lungs burning, even with ti gnawing at them, the brilliance demanded attention.
"Hurry!" the woman snapped, voice cracking. "I don’t know how long it took us to get up here, so just do it now!"
Together they rushed forward, practically tripping over one another as the shimring object was set onto the pedestal.
The sanctum reacted instantly.
Mana flooded outward in a blinding cascade, filling the spire with a radiant pulse that shot all the way down to its base. For an instant, the entire structure seed alive, breathing light. Then just as quickly, the brilliance vanished, leaving behind an eerie stillness as the object split open. Translucent pages unfurled, each one shimring faintly, as if etched with secrets too fragile for the unworthy.
"Take it out. Fast," the taller figure urged.
The woman’s hands trembled as she worked, keying in layered authorizations, tracing runic sequences with fingers that refused to steady. Every symbol unlocked another, every flicker of light a reminder of how delicate the process was.
On the floor, sothing small lay unnoticed. A thin, ordinary-looking object, glinting faintly as it caught the sanctum’s glow.
A pen.
It lay harmless, blending almost too easily with the shadows. Nothing remarkable, nothing worth more than a passing glance.
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