The Cranium
Dana's POV
The Cranium hovered before me at the far end of the chamber, suspended in the air as though the world itself bent around it. I felt its pull immediately, subtle but irresistible, tugging at something deep inside me, urging me forward.
I moved closer, my steps were slow and deliberate. The nearer I got, the clearer it became — power radiated from it in visible waves. It was breathtaking. Terrifying. Beautiful. It resembled a small, weighty skull, unnaturally dense for its size.
I lifted my hand, my fingers stretching instinctively toward it.
"There are things you need to know before you take hold of the Cranium."
The voice stopped me cold.
I turned sharply.
Malvorin stood behind me, his form faint but unmistakable.
"What is it?" I asked, my voice steady, though anticipation coiled tight in my chest.
"During my time as Guardian," he said, "I made a terrible mistake. One that led to my demise. One you must never repeat."
I didn't interrupt. I waited.
"The Cranium's power is not meant to be wielded," he continued. "Only gods have access to such force. Your duty is not to use it, but to guard it."
Confusion flickered through me. "I thought the Cranium was meant to give me power."
"And it will," he said. "But not its power. Only enough to keep it safe. Enough to endure." His gaze hardened. "If you ever try to use the Cranium for yourself, it will destroy you."
"What did you use it for?" I asked quietly.
He let out a short, bitter scoff, as though the memory still burned.
"When Balshak cursed the Labyrinth, I tried to undo it," he said. "But that wasn't all." His voice lowered. "I also tried to save someone I loved."
His jaw tightened.
"I reached for the Cranium's power to change what should not have been changed. And it consumed me."
He stepped closer, his presence pressing heavy against the air.
"You must understand this, Dana. This power does not belong to you. It is not a gift to be spent or a weapon to be wielded. It is entrusted to you so it may be protected."
His eyes locked onto mine.
"Do not make my mistake."
"What if Balshak comes for the Cranium?" I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it. "I would have to fight him, and I don't think I'm strong enough."
"You are strong, Dana," he said without hesitation. "We are strong." His gaze softened, just slightly. "The war against Balshak is drawing closer. And you will not stand alone."
"What do I do now?" I asked, needing direction, needing something solid to hold onto.
"You will return to the Temple," he replied. "You will meet with the Ascend. They will tell you your next step forward."
Then his form began to fade, dissolving into the light around him.
And just like that, he was gone.
I turned back to the Cranium pulsing before me. My focus narrowed, my breath slowing as I stepped closer and reached out. My hands met the surface, and a shockwave slammed into me. The power radiating from the object didn't just touch me, it wrapped around my bones. Power surged outward, then inward, wrapping around my body like a living thing.
Suddenly, my feet left the floor. It felt like my soul snapped into the Cranium. Something deep within my chest connected to it, locking it into place. It was terrifying, but amazing. I felt unstoppable.
Raw energy flowed off me for a moment before my weight took over and I hit the ground hard. Thunder cracked from outside the room, shaking the walls. I looked up. The Cranium had stopped pulsing. It sat there, cold and quiet. I quickly shoved it into my bag, surprised by its weight, and did not linger. Within moments, I was already scrambling for the exit.
The moment I stepped outside, chaos met me.
A thunderstorm raged violently, the wind was howling with such force it tore at my cloak and whipped my hair into my face. Fog swallowed everything, thick and blinding. Debris flew through the air, and the rain came down heavy and violent, soaking me instantly. I fought my way through the forest, dodging falling branches as the trees groaned under the wind. The storm was restless, angry.
The moon struggled to break through the clouds, offering barely enough light to guide me. I summoned fire into my palm, but it sputtered and died almost immediately beneath the rain. It was a nightmare.
When I finally reached the open ground leading to the waterfall, I didn't stop. I quickly grabbed three apples from a nearby tree, snatching them desperately and slipped them into my bag before pushing forward. The moment I passed through the waterfall, everything changed.
Silence.
No thunder. No rain. No wind.
It was as though I had stepped into an entirely different world. I finally exhaled, realising I'd been holding my breath for far too long.
I moved toward the ice wall which was still open. The cold returned instantly, biting into my soaked clothes. I pulled my cloak tighter, but it did little to help. I crossed in silence, my teeth chattering, and my body trembling.
As I stepped out, the ground trembled behind me. The ice wall groaned and slowly sealed itself shut.
I looked to my right where Doya and Kumbuye waited nearby. Doya was on his knees, with his face lowered to the ground. Kumbuye hovered slightly above him, panic written across his face.
His eyes lit up the moment he saw me. He rushed forward.
"Dana," he said breathlessly.
"Hi," I replied, exhausted. My gaze drifted past him to Doya. "Is everything alright?"
Before Kumbuye could answer, Doya looked up. He smiled faintly, struggling to his feet while holding his bag close. He walked toward me and pulled me into a hug.
I froze for a second, stunned. But I wrapped my arms around him anyway. He was trembling.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
"Yes," I said, pulling away. I studied him, unsettled, but said nothing.
"We should rest here tonight," Kumbuye said, breaking the tension. "We've been waiting for you."
"Yes. I'm exhausted."
"You're shivering," he said, pulling off his cloak and handing it to me. I didn't refuse. I quickly peeled off my soaked one and wrapped myself in the warmth of his cloak.
"Let's get a fire going. I'll find wood," Kumbuye offered, disappearing into the trees.
Doya still hadn't spoken since the hug. He slumped against a tree, shivering violently.
I sat next to him. "Are you alright?"
He just nodded. He didn't say a word.
I was worried. Doya was always closed off, secretive even, but I had never seen fear etched into his face like this. Knowing him, pushing for answers would only make him shut down more. So, I waited.
When Kumbuye returned, I muttered a spell and kindled a small fire. We huddled close, to keep ourselves warm and shielded the fire from the wind.
"So," Kumbuye said after a moment, "what happened beyond the wall?"
"Oh right, almost forgot." I reached into my bag and pulled out the apples. "I brought you both something. Fresh from the other side." I smiled holding the apples out for them.
Kumbuye grabbed one immediately, biting into it with a loud crunch. The juice ran down his chin. "This is... wow. Did you get more?"
"Only three. There was a thunderstorm."
"A thunderstorm?" Kumbuye's eyes went wide. "Ah. That explains why you're soaked."
"There was also a waterfall," I added. "I crossed through it."
He laughed. "Anything else insane happen?"
"The forest attacked me," I said proudly. "I fought it."
"Now I really regret not following you," he groaned.
I laughed, the tension easing slightly. Doya didn't join in. He sat apart from us, staring into the fire, remained quiet, distant. Before long, he fell asleep.
Kumbuye and I talked a little longer about the strange world beyond the wall. When silence settled again, he leaned closer.
"Dana," he whispered breaking the silence but quiet enough not to wake Doya.
"Yes?"
"Something happened to Doya while you were gone."
"What happened?"
"I don't know how to explain it. We were fine, then suddenly... he started screaming. Wincing like he was being tortured. He kept yelling your name. Begging you not to hurt him."
My blood ran cold. "What?"
"It was strange. But what was stranger... the containment in his bag... It fell out. It was pulsing."
"You saw it? The containment?"
"It's an urn. And it has the same symbols as the inscription on the stele over there."
"I don't understand. Doya said he'd never seen those symbols."
"That's what he said." Kumbuye's gaze hardened. "Doesn't mean it's true."
"When exactly did this happen?" I asked, glancing at Doya who was still fast asleep.
"It was a few hours after you went through the wall," Kumbuye whispered. Doya stirred, and we both froze. When he settled, Kumbuye continued. "He was in pain the whole time. It only stopped not long before you walked out of the wall."
"Did he say anything after?"
"No. He just grabbed the urn and hid it back inside his bag."
I stared at him, unease curling in my chest.
"I need that urn," I said quietly. "If he won't speak, I'll get answers myself."
Kumbuye frowned. "I don't know what's happening to him, but something's wrong. And I hope—" he hesitated, "—it doesn't put you in danger."
I looked at Doya again.
I was worried about him.
But I was also afraid.
Afraid that whatever was happening… had everything to do with me.
---
The next morning, I woke feeling slightly rested. Kumbuye was still asleep, but Doya was nowhere in sight.
I rose and moved toward the bushes, searching for him. After a few steps, I found him seated on a fallen log, his bag open as he rummaged through its contents the way he had been doing for days. His back was to me. He had no idea I was there.
I took a silent step closer, trying to see past his shoulder, careful, but my foot landed on a twig. It snapped.
Doya whipped around sharply, eyes wide. His hand flew to the bag, snapping it shut.
"Hey," I said, forcing a smile and a little wave.
"Hi." He let out a breath, his shoulders dropping. He stood up, blocking the bag from my view. "Did you sleep well?" He asked, that crooked side-smile returning, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Yes, I guess." I shrugged, stepping into his space. I needed to see his face clearly. "Doya, you've been... distant. Closed off. I just want to make sure you're alright." I paused, searching for the right words. "You know you don't have to hide things from me, right?"
"I know," he said softly.
Before I could gauge his expression, he pulled me into a hug.
"You've become quite the hugger these days," I murmured into his chest, trying to keep the mood light. I started to pull away, but he didn't let go. He drew me closer, his hands rising to frame my face as his eyes found mine.
"I need you to trust me, Dana." His gaze was intense, burning.
My breath hitched. His eyes were beautiful and his palms were warm against my cold skin.
"I do tr—"
Warmth pressed on my lips, stealing the rest of the sentence.
My mind went blank. I melted into him, kissing him back desperately. The kiss was gentle, reassuring, warm, and terrifyingly urgent. He pulled me closer, deepening it, and holding onto me.
When we finally broke apart, he didn't step back. He buried his face in my neck.
"You have to trust me, Dana," he whispered against my ear. His voice cracked.
We stayed like that for a while. My heart pounded wildly in my chest. I wanted more, to feel him closer, deeper, but I stayed still, savouring the moment, imprinting it into myself.
Finally, he kissed my forehead and gave me a weak smile.
"Let's get going."
We made our way back to where we stayed the night. Kumbuye was already up, kicking snow over the dying embers of our fire.
"There you are," he grinned. "I was wondering where you strolled off to. Thought you left me behind."
I laughed, the sound a little shaky, and went to my bag. I reached in and pulled out the Cranium.
"This," I said, holding it up, "is the Cranium."
"Woah…" Kumbuye's jaw dropped.
Doya stared at it, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You need to keep that safe until we return to the Temple."
I snapped my head toward him. "How do you know we're going back there?"
"Because that's where it belongs," he said, his voice flat. "There is a place set for it there and it has to be protected. By you."
"So... the Ascend are expecting me?"
"Exactly."
"Wait." The weight of his words settled on me. "Does this mean I can never leave? If I'm protecting the Cranium... I'm stuck there."
"Until the threat is handled? No. You cannot leave."
"Oh God." I let out a frustrated sigh. "It feels like a prison."
"The Temple is beautiful, Dana. The people there love you. You can make the best of it," Doya said, his tone reasonable but firm. "You were there for months."
"I don't think I have much of a choice anymore," I muttered.
"We don't have time to waste," Doya added. "The journey back is long, and the bounty on your heads makes things worse."
"We don't have to travel the whole distance, though," Kumbuye said, tying his boots. "Dana can just veil-walk us there."
The silence that followed was instant and suffocating.
Kumbuye froze. He looked from me to Doya, his hands hovering over his laces. He realized he'd messed up.
I hadn't told Doya. Weeks had passed since he came back, and I still hadn't told him I could walk through the veil.
Doya turned to me slowly. "You can veil-walk?"
"I—" My throat went dry. How could I explain that I could, but I couldn't? "Well... I have gone through the veil. Twice. But I never summoned it. It just... happened. I don't know if that makes sense."
"Why didn't you tell me?" His expression faltered.
"The topic never came up," I stammered. "And... since you lost your ability, I didn't want to be... insensitive. I don't know. I should have told you. I'm sorry."
"You don't need to apologise," he said, offering a small smile. "And yes, that makes sense. Sometimes the veil answers to fear and instinct. It's rare, but it happens."
"So... I've never summoned it on purpose," I said, stepping closer. "I don't know how to control it. Will you teach me?"
His smile softened.
"I'd be honoured to teach you, Dana."