They crouched in the tall grass about a hundred meters from the temple, eyeing the crumbling structure with concern. The temple was more than abandoned; it was decaying, surrendering to the grip of time and neglect. Wild vines twisted around the stone columns, burrowing into cracks and seams, breaking down the bone-white exterior and hastening its inevitable collapse.
In the center of the overgrown courtyard stood a fountain as dilapidated as the temple. The remnants of a grotesque statue watched over its dry basin.
They waited in tense silence, scanning the temple for any movement. A few minutes earlier, from the crest of a small hill, they spotted something lurking in the temple’s entrance. A shadowy figure stood near the steps. It had turned in their direction, its dark form seeming to sense their presence. They dropped to the ground immediately, and when they looked back, the figure had vanished, leaving the courtyard eerily still.
Jack’s gaze swept over the sagging walls, the broken stones, and the overgrown paths. Eyes straining to catch any movement. Nothing—no sign of life, only an unsettling quiet that pressed down around them like a weight.
The late afternoon sun had dimmed, a blanket of gray clouds muting its light, while darker, thunder-laden clouds approached from the east. The wind had picked up, carrying the distant scent of rain and the promise of a storm. Lightning flickered on the horizon, its tendrils arcing from the sky to an unseen point below. The storm would be upon them sooner than expected.
Jack’s stomach churned with unease. The last thing he wanted was to shelter in that decrepit temple. He’d seen something dark there, something unsettling. He felt a pang of regret over every choice that had led him here. Abandoning Cabal, throwing himself into the unknown, and entrusting his life to a woman who was little more than a stranger. She was full of secrets and spoke in one-word sentences as if she feared that one word too many might release everything she guarded so carefully.
As the storm closed in, he was caught between two unknown dangers: the raging tempest and a mysterious figure watching them from the temple steps. He felt like a naive city boy, out of his element and about to be devoured by whatever horror lay in wait.
Kleo caught his eye and gestured for him to follow her. She began a steady, quiet approach toward the temple, keeping low to the ground. Jack hesitated, his legs tense and unwilling to move. Kleo paused, her gaze firm, assuring him this was their only viable choice.
With a resigned sigh, he steeled himself and dashed to where she waited, his body taut.
After several long minutes of waiting in silence, Kleo finally stood, stretching her legs.
“Let’s go,” she murmured, keeping her voice low.
Jack grunted as he stood, his shoulders aching from the weight of his pack and the day’s travel.
She held a glinting blade in her right hand as she headed toward the temple’s entrance. Where had that come from? He hadn’t seen her draw it, and the sight filled him with awe and apprehension.
Stopping at the fountain''s edge, Kleo studied the statue and the dried-out basin. Only the scattered remains of tiny animals lay among weeds struggling to grow in the bone-dry earth.
“Do you think it’s gone?” Jack asked, glancing at the temple entrance.
“Unlikely,” she replied, her gaze fixed on the temple’s dark archway.
Jack dropped his pack onto the fountain’s edge and pulled out the only item he had that resembled a weapon—a battered kitchen knife. He’d found it discarded in the city, and though the cook had intended it for the trash, Jack had seen its potential. Anything sharp could mean the difference between life and death in a world as dangerous as his.
Kleo’s eyes flicked to the knife, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “Try not to hurt yourself… or me,” she said, her tone teasing but carrying a hint of genuine warning.
Jack gave a wry smile. “No promises.”
He glanced at the temple, thinking about the figure they had seen. “I don’t know what that was,” he murmured, “but if I had to guess, I’d say it was a wraith.”
Kleo considered his words. “If it were a wraith, we’d have turned and run. We’d be halfway to Astiria by now.”
“You think we could outrun a wraith?”
She paused, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I don’t need to outrun the wraith,” she said, waiting for the realization to dawn on him.
Jack rolled his eyes. “You only have to outrun me. Ha! Not like I haven’t heard that one before.”
The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
She laughed, her smile breaking the tension for a fleeting moment. It was a rare expression on her, lightening Jack’s mood, if only slightly.
“Alright,” she said, returning her focus to the temple, “let’s secure the area and set up camp.”
Jack swallowed hard, nodding. He followed her, stepping over loose stones and weeds as they entered the temple’s shadowy interior.
<hr>
The temple''s central chamber lay in silent devastation, its contents scattered across the floor—not merely decayed, but calcified, as if time had abandoned this place to a slow, creeping death.
Black moss veiled the walls, its tendrils sprawling like skeletal fingers clawing from a mass grave. Strange symbols were faintly etched into the stone where the moss hadn’t claimed ground, hinting at ancient rites long forgotten.
Part of the roof had collapsed in the east-facing corner, leaving fragments of stone and shattered beams tangled in a chaotic web of vines.
As Jack and Kleo stepped inside, a sudden clamor erupted as startled birds took flight, filling the air with a flurry of feathers and shadows. Jack flinched, his grip on his knife tightening as his unease about the temple flared.
Every instinct urged him to turn back, to abandon this crumbling shrine to whatever dark forces haunted it. But with a storm approaching, he reminded himself he’d have to endure it until dawn.
Kleo seemed unperturbed. She moved swiftly but with careful precision, as she navigated the treacherous floor. Stepping into an adjacent chamber strewn with rubble and debris, they were forced to clamber over the remnants of a fallen beam.
The air in the room was heavy with the scent of mold and damp stone. Its weight wrapped around Jack like a shroud, filling him with a strange, suffocating sorrow and loss.
In the chamber’s center, an altar of translucent green stone rose from the floor, cracked and marred yet standing defiantly amid the ruin. It was a lone sentinel in a place otherwise reduced to rubble. Around it, fragments of statues lay shattered and forgotten, their details eroded into oblivion.
A dismembered head of a statue rested on the ground, its face twisted, hollow eyes gazing at Jack from the dust.
Somewhere in the shadows, water dripped steadily, the sound echoing through the silence like the heartbeat of a place otherwise lifeless.
Kleo moved to the wall behind the altar and struck it firmly with the hilt of her blade. The sound echoed, a low, grating rumble reverberating through the room as a section of the stone wall slid open, revealing a dark corridor beyond.
A rush of warmer air whooshed into the chamber carrying a scent he couldn''t place—a fragrance that stirred a distant, half-formed memory, elusive and just out of reach.
Beyond, a faint glow flickered like a distant flame, casting ghostly shadows along the walls.
“This way,” Kleo murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jack hesitated, gripping his knife. The cool handle grounded him as he stepped forward, senses on edge for whatever might wait in the shadows beyond.
As they advanced, the door behind them swung shut with a grinding groan, sealing them in with a final, irrevocable crunch.
At the end of the passage, they found themselves in a room bathed with an eerie green glow, the light seeping from the walls and ceiling.
Jack’s eyes adjusted, drawn to a large pool in the room’s center, filled with dense, clear water tinged green by the light. Wisps of steam curled upward from its surface, twisting and unfurling toward the rocky ceiling like smoke, lending the room an ethereal, dreamlike quality. The air was laden with the mineral scent of saltwater—the scent that had escaped him earlier.
Despite the humidity, Jack felt unexpected comfort in the room’s enclosed warmth, as if the oppressive weight of the temple had finally lessened. Fatigue from the day’s grueling journey settled heavily upon him, his body aching for rest. For all its mysteries, this place felt safe enough for him to let his guard down—if only slightly.
Kleo led him to a clear spot on the far side of the room, gesturing for him to set down his packs. Removing the weight from his shoulders brought immediate relief, the lightness making him acutely aware of how tired he was.
“We’ll camp here,” she said, indicating four faint symbols marked on the floor. “These form a protective boundary, a ward against mischievous spirits lurking about.”
Jack looked at her skeptically but nodded, unable to hide his relief. “Good,” he said, almost to himself.
Kleo pointed toward the corner. “If you need to relieve yourself, there’s a drainage pipe over there. Move the white stone to open it, but put it back afterward.”
Jack couldn’t help but cringe at the thought. The lack of privacy would be inconvenient enough for basic needs, let alone anything more… substantial.
“Could you lay out the bedrolls?” Kleo asked as she began arranging their campfire. “I’ll start a small fire and prepare something to eat. Nothing special, but a warm meal will do us good.”
He spread the bedrolls, keeping a polite distance between them, but Kleo glanced over and raised an eyebrow. “Closer,” she instructed. He shuffled her bedroll nearer to his, hoping it was enough.
“Touching,” she clarified with a hint of exasperation.
Jack sighed, pushing them together until they formed a shared sleeping space.
Kleo opened one of her water bags and poured it onto the floor as he worked. To his astonishment, two large fish flopped out onto the stone. Jack blinked in surprise, but her deft hands moved before he could comment. She dispatched the fish with a small nail before preparing them for the fire. Her efficiency fascinated him, each movement precise and practiced.
Watching her, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Kleo than she revealed. Beneath her practical demeanor lay something hidden, something guarded, a concealed depth he sensed but couldn’t fully comprehend. He felt as though he were looking at a mask, one crafted to perfection yet with faint cracks that hinted at the person beneath. There was an aura to her—something that stirred both curiosity and wariness.
For his part, Jack felt plain and unremarkable. He held no mysterious allure, no hidden strength that might captivate someone like her. And yet, he found himself longing to earn her trust, to understand what lay behind her composed exterior. Eager to learn more about the enigmatic woman, he would find a way to get past her defenses.
Then, he felt sadness at the thought that their paths might diverge soon. He wasn’t sure where he would go when he left Astiria, but beyond these crumbling ruins and shadowy passages stretched a world brimming with possibilities—one he yearned to discover. The trick would be to figure out how to stay alive long enough to find his place within it.