Unholy Player

With Vesha in his arms—and the Dawn Raven resting in hers—Adyr navigated the maze-like cave with practiced ease. For him, the simplest way to find his path was through footprints. The cave's slightly damp soil, untouched by wind or weather, had preserved every step with perfect clarity, offering him a flawless guide through the stone corridors.

During this time, the wandering skeletons in the corridors posed no threat. Just showing them the Dawn Raven was enough to short-circuit whatever logic they operated on.

Meanwhile, Adyr kept Vesha engaged, speaking to her to keep her mind active—anything to keep her awake. At least until he could be sure the bleeding from her chest had fully stopped, and her dehydrated body received some water and nourishment.

"Back in the prison area... why did you save me?" He asked. "Why risk your own life for mine?" His voice remained gentle, but firm enough to keep someone on the brink of sleep from slipping away.

"I—" Vesha parted her pale, cracked lips, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. Her voice came out weak, heavy with exhaustion. "In the Church of Astra... the first three things they teach every follower are: serve, obey, and sacrifice."

Adyr raised an eyebrow. "Serve who?"

"The practitioners of the Four Paths..." She replied, her words drawing out, slower with each syllable.

"Practitioners? Am I a practitioner?" He asked, curiosity slipping into his tone.

"You're tall."

It was the third time across both his lives that someone had called him tall—and all three times, it had been her.

But Adyr didn't even react. The repetition wasn't a coincidence—it was a clear sign her mind was starting to slip.