Victoria and Elysia watched in silence as the Selifehian child tore into the chameleon. Small teeth sank through flesh with unsettling ease, and the creature's desperate struggles slowly weakened until its final breath slipped into the stagnant air.
Yet the ghastly scene did not end there. The child tossed the carcass to the others, who descended upon it like a pack of starving scavengers. Within moments, it was over. Nothing remained but shattered bones scattered across the ground and blood seeping into the earth.
"Vicky..." Elysia called softly, unable to mask the revulsion in her voice.
"I know," Victoria replied within their shared thoughts, her gaze still fixed on the scene.
Aiden and Godric remained equally composed. Neither flinched nor spoke. Though the sight was grotesque, they continued onward without drawing attention, only pressing on until they had put enough distance between themselves and the Selifehians. Eventually, they reached a stretch of land wide enough to serve as a resting place, far removed from what they had witnessed.
They tethered their Luluths to nearby rocks and set up a modest camp before night fully swallowed the valley.
Night came swiftly.
No stars adorned the sky. Bereft of sunlight even during the day, the Valley of Mendiants felt like it had been swallowed by an endless void. Darkness pressed in from all sides, thick and suffocating, as though the world itself ended beyond arm's reach.
"Aries; Liflame."
At Aiden's chant, a blaze erupted at the centre of the camp. Golden light pushed back the darkness, revealing familiar faces where only shadows had been moments before. Its warmth spread through them, driving away the unnatural cold that clung to the valley.
"Thanks," Victoria said, warming her hands by the fire. "For once, you've proven yourself useful."
"Hmph." Aiden shrugged. "I'm still waiting for the day you become useful. So far, you've been nothing but a nuisance."
"Please, set aside your childish quarrels," Godric said calmly. "Our priority is crossing this valley without incident."
As he spoke, he retrieved bundles of preserved leaves from his pack and fed them to the Luluths, who accepted the meal eagerly after the long day's journey.
Victoria and Aiden exchanged a glance, both seeming ready to resume their argument, yet neither followed through. In the end, they turned away and busied themselves with other matters.
Once the Luluths had been fed, Godric gathered their supplies and brought them toward the fire. The three companions settled around the dancing flames, preparing to share their evening meal as the darkness of the valley pressed against the edge of their light.
"We will have to endure this for tonight," Godric said as he served himself. "Once we reach Bazareff, our circumstances should improve considerably."
"How long are we expected to stay there?" Victoria asked, idly stirring her meal.
"That depends on how quickly we gather information regarding Amzath," Godric replied after a measured bite. "We will also need to replenish our supplies and purchase a few necessities to make the journey ahead less burdensome."
"Fair enough. But why that town specifically?"
"According to the Grand Master, Bazareff is the nearest settlement and one of six places where she was known to meet Amzath."
"That Amzath fellow isn't what concerns me," Aiden said through a mouthful of food. "We'll find him eventually. What troubles me are the people in this valley. There's something deeply unsettling about them."
The memory of the Selifehian children feasting on the chameleon lingered in the air, unspoken but heavy between them.
"I only hope they do not attempt anything foolish, such as attacking us," Victoria said, her eyes reflecting the firelight. "Because I will not be holding back."
"It is not quite that simple," Godric replied.
The swordswoman raised an eyebrow.
"We must exercise caution even in self-defence. It is said that killing a Selifeh is a crime."
That statement immediately drew the attention of both Victoria and Aiden.
"A crime?" Victoria repeated.
Godric nodded.
"The Selifeh were condemned to suffer and eventually perish within this valley for sins committed long ago. Their punishment was decreed by the Magic Council itself. To ensure that sentence remained absolute, old rumours claim their curse was woven into the very fabric of their being, such that it passes to any who take their lives."
For perhaps the first time since entering the valley, Victoria and Aiden found themselves in rare agreement.
"So, they can murder travellers," Aiden said incredulously, "but no one is allowed to kill them?"
"How does that make any sense?" Victoria added.
"Ah…" Godric exhaled a weary sigh.
"The Valley of Mendiants was never meant to be crossed. It serves as both prison and homeland to the Selifeh. From the Council's perspective, we are the intruders. The moment we entered this place, we placed ourselves in the wrong."
His gaze drifted toward the darkness beyond the fire.
"That is precisely why I advised against taking this route."
"All because of who?" Aiden muttered, casting Victoria a pointed look.
"Give me a break," Victoria replied with a tired sigh.
Godric pinched the bridge of his nose.
"At this point, how we arrived here no longer matters. What matters is ensuring we leave this valley without incident. So, both of you, calm yourselves."
The two fell silent.
Satisfied, Godric rose and dusted off his cloak.
"Before we rest, I will cast a spell around the camp. If anyone approaches while we sleep, it will warn us immediately. Is that acceptable?"
"Yes."
The answer came in perfect unison.
Victoria and Aiden immediately looked away from each other, as though neither wished to acknowledge their agreement.
After their meal, the companions settled around the dying fire while Godric prepared the ward he had promised.
Rising to his feet, he drew his wand from beneath his cloak and stepped to the edge of the camp. Raising it toward the black heavens, he traced the shape of an "N" through the air and chanted:
"Reviose Immatori."
A pale radiance bloomed from the wand's tip. The light unfurled into the form of a great bell suspended above the camp—translucent, ghostlike. At Godric's command, it descended slowly, passing through the travellers, the Luluths, and the ground itself without resistance.
As it touched the earth, the bell dissolved into countless threads of light. They spread across the soil like roots before converging into a faint arcane sigil. The mark shimmered once, then faded beneath the surface.
Godric returned to the fire.
The companions laid spare garments upon the ground to soften the unforgiving stone. Using their packs as makeshift pillows, they lay down with their weapons within reach. Nearby, the Luluths folded their long limbs beneath them and slipped into rest.
One by one, sleep claimed them.
Hours passed in silence until midnight settled over the Valley of Mendiants.
It was then that Victoria found herself slipping into a dream.
She floated upon a raging sea beneath a sky consumed by storm. Towering waves rose and broke around her while thunder rolled endlessly across the heavens. Yet neither the freezing waters nor the deafening roar of the tempest could rouse her. She drifted motionless amid the chaos, as though suspended between life and death.
Not far from her hovered the Goddess of Love, Eros.
Countless chains bound the divine being, stretching from her limbs and vanishing into every corner of the astral expanse, anchoring her to an unseen prison. The storm winds tugged at her jet-black hair, yet the goddess remained perfectly still, her piercing gaze fixed upon Victoria.
"Stupid child," she whispered with open disdain. "How can you fall prey to such a pathetic charm? Wake up already. Do not allow this vessel to be harmed—for it no longer belongs solely to you."
The chains rattled softly. "It belongs to us."
As her words faded into the storm, another voice reached Victoria's consciousness. At first, it was little more than a distant murmur beneath the crashing waves.
"Wake up…"
It echoed again, slightly clearer this time.
"Wake up…"
Gradually, it grew louder, forcing its way through the dream.
"Vicky…"
The sea trembled.
"Wake up…"
The call sharpened into urgency.
"Vicky!"
The dream was shattered.
Victoria jolted upright, drawing a sharp breath as her heart hammered violently in her chest.
"Finally!" Elysia cried in relief.
The first thing Victoria saw upon opening her eyes was a man crouched over her, attempting to bind her wrists.
Instinct took over.
She shot forward and struck him squarely in the face. A sickening crack echoed through the darkness as the Selifehian collapsed unconscious to the ground.
Victoria rose at once, her hand already moving toward the hilt as her gaze swept across the camp, searching for answers.
What she found made her blood run cold.
Two of the Luluths lay sprawled upon the ground, their throats torn open so savagely that blood still pooled beneath their bodies. A pack of Selifehians crowded around the carcasses, tearing into the flesh with ravenous hunger. They ripped strips of meat away with teeth and hands alike, chewing like starving wolves that had gone without food for weeks.
The third Luluth was nowhere to be seen. Whether it had escaped or been dragged away, Victoria could not tell. Her gaze snapped toward the fire.
Aiden and Godric still lay asleep as though nothing had changed.
Around them knelt several Selifehian women. Their bony fingers moved across the men's clothing as they tried to strip them bare, their intent leaving no room for doubt.
For a moment, Victoria simply stared. Then fury surged through her. Her sword left its scabbard with a sharp metallic hiss.
"What do you think you are doing!?" Her shout tore through the camp.
An overwhelming pressure erupted from her presence, sweeping across the area like an invisible storm. The campfire was snuffed out in an instant.
Darkness swallowed the valley once more.
Only the Selifehians' eyes remained—hundreds of pale glimmers suspended in the blackness like distant stars in a moonless sky.
Victoria moved.
Guided by those lights, she lunged and struck. Her blade cut through empty air.
Nothing.
Her eyes widened.
The Selifehians had closed their eyes. Without their eerie glow, they dissolved completely into the darkness.
"Elysia!" Victoria called the fairy.
"Alright!" She responded instantly.
The fairy transformed into a sphere of radiant light, its glow spreading across the camp—visible only to Victoria.
The darkness receded, revealing something far worse.
The Selifehians were gone—every last one.
So were Aiden, Godric, the slain Luluths, and their provisions. No trace remained except disturbed earth and dark stains upon the ground, as though the camp had never existed at all.
"We messed up… it doesn't look good," Victoria muttered as she broke into a sprint between the jagged rocks, scouring every shadow and hollow between stone and earth.
There was nothing—no bodies, no footprints, not even a trace of struggle, as though the entire camp had been erased from existence.
"How could this happen?" she demanded sharply, turning in a full circle, eyes narrowed in frustration. "Why did the spell not react? And those two fools—how can they sleep through something like this? Do they have no instinct for survival at all?"
"Don't blame them, Vicky," Elysia replied quickly, hovering close. "They are under a charm."
"A charm?" Victoria slowed.
"Yes," the fairy said, her glow flickering as she extended her senses.
"I can smell it… Nyx's spices. A sleeping powder. It is potent—strong enough to force deep sleep. If enough is inhaled, it drags the mind into an endless slumber… and eventually death, if none intervene."
"Then why are we both still awake?" Victoria asked, her tone quieter now, more controlled.
"You are closer to divinity than you realize," Elysia answered. "That is why it did not take you fully. You resisted longer than most. As for me, fairy dust shields my kind from such charms—it disperses foreign sleep magic before it settles."
Victoria finally stopped.
Silence pressed in around her, heavier than before.
She drew a slow breath and released it through clenched teeth.
"This was my decision," she said at last, her voice steady but restrained. "I chose this route out of impatience… because I wanted the easier path. If anything happens to them, it will be on me."
Without another word, she sheathed her sword and lowered herself to the ground.
The agitation in her movements faded into stillness as she settled into a meditative posture, closing her eyes and steadying her breath.
The valley around her slipped from thought as she sharpened every sense, reaching outward into the darkness in search of even the faintest trace of her companions.
***
Deep within the Valley of Mendiants, far from the wandering eye of any traveller, a cavern breathed beneath flickering torchlight. Shadows clung to its walls like living things, stretching and swaying as a multitude of Selifehians stood in solemn unison, their voices rising together in a continuous chant that echoed through the stone.
It was not a prayer offered to any god.
Nor to any saint or forgotten spirit.
Rather, it was a plea cast into the void itself—into the vast uncertainty of the universe, or whatever force governed its cruel order.
As a people burdened with foresight, the Selifehians sought not salvation, but survival—a future in which their existence would not end in ruin. And so, they prayed every night without end, as though repetition alone might bend fate in their favour.
At the centre of the cavern stood three stone altars arranged in a wide arc. Behind them rested three figures in uneasy stillness: two Selifehian women and a decorated child seated upon a wide, richly woven sleeping mat.
Around them lay carefully arranged offerings—food of varied kinds, both preserved and fresh—a display of reverence that set them apart from the rest of the gathering. Unlike the others, these three bore healthy forms and well-kept appearances, untouched by the harshness that marked their kind.
A shift moved through the crowd as a second passage deeper within the cave stirred.
From its darkness emerged an old man, supported by a younger attendant. He was thin to the point of frailty, his spine bent into a pronounced hunch, his face carved by age and hardship. A crooked nose—broken too many times to count—cast a harsh shadow across his features. In his right hand, he carried a withered wand, its wood dry and splintered, as though it had long outlived its purpose.
He was Knorr, fallen king of the Selifeh.
By his side walked his son, Prince Myorr.
At their arrival, the chanting ceased at once. The entire assembly bowed in reverence.
Knorr did not speak immediately. Instead, he moved forward with slow, deliberate steps, his gaze softening only when it fell upon the three seated figures. He reached out and gently patted the heads of the two women and the child upon the mat—his daughters and granddaughter, the last remnants of his royal bloodline.
Behind him, more Selifehians entered through the cavern's main passage. Two bore Aiden and Godric across their shoulders as though they were no more than sacks of grain, while another dragged in the last surviving Luluth.
"Put them upon the altars," Knorr said at last, his voice cracked and worn with age, gesturing toward Aiden and Godric.
The men obeyed without hesitation.
"And I assume this Luluth is your offering," he added, stepping closer with his son at his side.
"Yes, Your Highness," one of the attendants replied, head lowered.
Knorr's gaze then shifted slowly toward a group of Selifehian women nearby. Something in his expression darkened.
"Where does this blood come from… and why are you naked?"
The women did not answer. They trembled beneath his stare, words dying before they could form, as silence swallowed the cavern once more.
"The royal family must first consume all offerings," Knorr said. "No woman outside the princesses may lie with foreign men. Those of the secondary branch are secondary in all things—such is our tradition."
His gaze hardened as he stepped forward.
"And yet you have defiled it out of hunger… and greed."
"Forgive us, Your Highness," the women pleaded at once, lowering their heads in terror.
"Shush."
Knorr raised a trembling finger and pressed it lightly against his lips, silencing them as though they were children who had spoken out of turn.
"The Selifeh blood has lost its nobility," he continued, his tone darkening. "It has become cursed… impure. It must be purified."
His gaze swept across the gathered Selifehians.
"And for purification, we rely solely on the women of the main branch. The secondary branch exists only to sustain them."
A heavy silence settled over the cavern, broken only by the distant crackle of torchlight.
Then his expression softened as his eyes fell upon the young girl seated upon the mat.
"Elai…" he murmured, almost tenderly. "Look at her. The living proof that I am right. She has been spared from the encroaching curse that once threatened us. She is the sign of hope for our house's future."
The tenderness vanished as quickly as it had come.
"But you…"
His gaze sharpened once more, cold as iron, as it returned to the trembling women before him.
"…are a sign of ill omen. A mark of despair."
He straightened slightly.
"Take them."
The order fell like a blade.
At once, the accused women were seized and dragged away, their screams tearing through the cavern as they begged for mercy. Yet none of the gathered Selifehians looked at them. No one intervened. All eyes remained fixed on their king, as though his words alone carried the weight of law and fate.
And as they were dragged deeper into the darkness, their cries abruptly cut off—not by distance alone, but by something far more final—leaving the cavern once again wrapped in uneasy silence.
Without pause, Knorr raised his wand and directed it toward Aiden and Godric. A faint arcane glow washed over their bodies as he studied them in silence. After a moment, his eyes widened slightly in satisfaction.
"Ah… these men are remarkably healthy," he said, almost impressed. "Strong constitutions… significant magical potential. They will serve well for the ritual."
His attention then shifted to the third altar, empty and waiting.
"I was told there were three travellers," he said slowly. "What of the last one?"
"She escaped, Your Highness," a servant answered.
Knorr clicked his tongue, displeasure flickering across his aged features.
"A woman, then…" he muttered. "I have no interest in female travellers. Ensure she is eliminated. She must not interfere."
His gaze hardened.
"There is a reason why servants of the secondary branch are permitted food and privilege. Our ritual is sacred. You will protect it—even at the cost of your lives. Now go."
"Consider it done, Your Highness," three male servants replied in unison before slipping into the darkness and vanishing from sight.
Silence briefly returned to the cavern.
Then Knorr turned toward the royal mat.
"Come," he said, his voice softening once more. "My flesh and blood… come to me."
The two elder princesses rose without hesitation and stepped forward, shedding their garments as they approached the altars. They stood bare beneath the flame torches, their expressions distant and hollow.
"You must fulfil the duty bound to your royal blood," Knorr continued. "For twelve days and twelve nights, you shall mate with these men and bear their offspring. From this union, a future shall be born—one where our descendants may one day see the sun again."
"As you wish, Father," the princesses replied in unison, their voices cold, as though the words belonged to someone else entirely.