Heart of Mer'Valka

"I think you may be mistaken, my lady," Camilla said, her voice steady and polite, though her eyes didn't flinch. "I have nothing of value that could possibly serve your court. But I'm sure once I'm allowed to leave....we won't have a problem."

The queen's smile didn't fade, but it shifted just slightly. Something colder behind her eyes now, like a frost curling around the edges of her features.

"Oh, dear child," she said slowly, almost fondly, as if Camilla had just said something adorably naive. "You misunderstand the nature of this place."

She rose from her throne, each movement deliberate, her emerald robes trailing behind her like vines stretching across marble. When she stepped down the dais, the air thickened, and the court fell silent.

"You arrived," she continued, circling Camilla like a hawk does prey it's not quite ready to kill. "That alone makes you of value. You walk through our gates, and still believe you owe us nothing?"

She leaned in, just close enough for Camilla to feel the heat of her breath, and whispered.....

"You're already part of the Mire now. And no root ever lets go once it's sunk deep."

Camilla's spine stiffened, but she didn't move not even a blink.

The young man in emerald spoke up again, his voice a gentle ripple through the tension.

"Perhaps we test her," he offered, casually inspecting one of his rings. "See if the land accepts her... or rejects her."

A few murmurs rippled through the court.

"Test her?" the queen echoed, amused. "Mmm...Let the Grove decide then, let her stand before the Heartwood."

She turned to Camilla with a tilt of her head.

"If you truly have nothing of worth," she said sweetly, "then it won't matter what the Grove takes from you."

"Now, we wouldn't want to keep our guest unattended to," the queen said, her voice dripping with a sweetness so carefully measured it felt more like honey laced with thorns.

It was the kind of tone one might use to tame a wild animal or lull it just before the trap snapped shut.

As if on cue, a young woman appeared from behind one of the arched columns, silent and graceful. Camilla assumed she was a maid her pale green robes marked with the crest of the court, her hair woven with tiny silver leaves that tinkled softly as she moved. She didn't speak, just bowed her head slightly and motioned for Camilla to follow.

She hesitated for only a breath, then stepped forward. What choice did she have?

But before she passed through the threshold, Camilla turned compelled to look one last time at the queen.

And there she was.

Still standing at the base of the throne dais, bathed in a shaft of golden light that seemed to seek her out. Her gown flowed like molten jade, trailing across the marble floor in delicate folds that whispered secrets to the ground. The sleeves flared like petals in bloom, and her collar was high and carved from woven bark and crystal regal, sharp, and unmistakably ancient.

Her hair was an intricate crown of twisted braids and golden moss, with thin branches rising like antlers from the back of her head, each one strung with tiny glowing orbs that pulsed faintly with life. Her skin was flawless, with a faint shimmer like polished bark at dusk, and her eyes… gracious, her eyes.

They were not green, neither were they brown but something deeper. Like the first sap that ever bled from a wounded tree. It was beautiful.

She tilted her head, meeting Camilla's gaze with a soft, knowing smile one that said you've only just begun to understand what you've stepped into.

And then she turned away, her gown swirling behind her like a living thing, and disappeared into the shadows of the court.

Camilla exhaled slowly and followed the maid down the corridor, the echo of that gaze trailing behind her like a vine creeping up her spine.

 Jasmine sneezed, then wheezed herself awake, chest heaving as though she'd been yanked out of a nightmare. Her entire body prickled like it was being stabbed by a thousand tiny needles sharp, electric pain flaring under her skin. But that didn't matter.

Because in the very next second, she shot upright so fast the world spun with her, tilting sideways as her stomach threatened revolt.

She blinked rapidly, trying to orient herself. The last thing she remembered was the impact crashing through that damned portal. It was supposed to take them to Hollow... or Hollowreach... or whatever strange name Draven had mumbled while drawing those stupid runes.

And speaking of Draven....where was he?

Where the hell was she?

Her gaze darted around, heart pounding so fast she thought it might explode. She half expected a ghoul to come slithering out of the shadows or for the air itself to peel back and devour her. But what she saw instead made her pause.

A cave.

A wide, silent cavern dimly lit by the greenish glow of bioluminescent moss clinging to the walls. The air was cold and damp, thick with the scent of stone and something faintly metallic.

She was lying on a stone slab, a coat draped over her.....Draven's, unmistakably. That thick black thing that somehow always smelled like burnt cedar and mint.

It was the only familiar thing in the room.

She gripped the edge of the slab, grounding herself, breaths shallow as she whispered, "Okay... not dead. Just probably lost in the void with a sarcastic idiot who better not have left me behind."

She was halfway through debating whether to scream or explore when a low hum echoed from the tunnel behind her...footsteps, steady and slow, accompanied by the unmistakable scrape of boots on rock.

And then came the voice.

"Well, look who's finally decided to rejoin the living," Draven drawled, stepping into the cave like he owned it and possibly the entire plane of existence it was in. His dark coat swirled behind him with theatrical precision, like it had been choreographed, and he was balancing a bundle of wrapped food in one hand like a prize.

"Don't get up too quickly," he added, smirking as he took in the sight of her wrapped in his coat. "You might trip over your own disorientation again. It was very graceful the first time."

Jasmine narrowed her eyes. "You're hilarious. Truly. I nearly died."

"And yet," he said with a cool grin, setting down the bundle on a flat rock nearby, "you didn't. Which, by the way, you're welcome for."

He pulled something from the wrap...a still-warm piece of flatbread, some dried fruits, and what looked suspiciously like roasted root meat. It smelled… good. Too good, considering she was still half-convinced this realm wanted to eat her.

She eyed the food. Then him.

"Where did you even find that? We crashed into another dimension."

He gave her a look. "Please. I've navigated worse. Vendirt Mire is practically a vacation spot once you know which monsters to bribe and which ones just want compliments." He sat down on a nearby stone, tearing into a piece of bread like a man entirely unaffected by near-death portals.

She stared at him, brow raised. "And you didn't think to wake me up before you went grocery shopping?"

Draven shrugged, mouth half-full. "You were snoring. I took it as a sign of life."

"You're insufferable."

"And you're welcome," he said again, offering her a piece of bread with an exaggerated bow. "Princess of portal land."

Jasmine snatched it with a glare, then hesitated.

"...Thank you."

Draven's grin widened, and she instantly regretted saying it.

"Oh? Say that again. Louder. I don't think the cave spirits heard you."

"Don't push it."

"I'm not. I'm basking."

He leaned back on his elbows, eyes flickering with that familiar gleam, arrogant and unbothered, and maybe just a little too pleased to see her miserable.

Liliana kicked at the crumbling ash beneath her boots as she ventured deeper into Ghulvale. She'd threatened more than once to burn the place to the ground, but even she knew that was nothing more than wishful thinking. It had to be close to five hours now if she was still counting time right and she hadn't seen a single useful thing. Just endless decay.

The only light came from the flicker of flame she held in her palm. It didn't do much barely enough to see by but it kept her fingers from going numb. The deeper she walked, the colder it got. Not a natural kind of cold, either. This was the chill of a place spelled. Normally, Liliana ran hot fire in her blood always, but Ghulvale was different. It swallowed warmth, muted it, made her feel like she was walking through a dead god's breath.

She stepped on something, qit snapped under her boot with a brittle crunch.

Liliana glanced down, expecting a twig. Instead, she was greeted with the sun-bleached remains of what used to be a leg bone. The rest of the corpse was half-buried in soot, dried out like overcooked meat. Whoever it was, they hadn't lasted long here.

"Tch." She clicked her tongue, sidestepping the mess without so much as a flinch, just an annoyed roll of her eyes. "Could've at least died somewhere less dramatic."

She moved on, the ash muffling her steps, her flame flickering in rhythm with her breath. But a few paces later, she stopped. Her brows furrowed. The trees were familiar. Hadn't she passed them already?

She spun on her heel, eyes narrowing. "Don't play games with me."

The air shimmered faintly barely there but enough to piss her off. She paced forward again, testing. The shimmer thickened. The path twisted. Her flame sparked violently in protest.

Her lips curved into a sharp, humorless smirk. "Enchanted loop. Of course."

She crossed her arms, shifting her weight like she had all the time in the world. "I don't do traps," she muttered, loud enough for the spell or whoever laid it to hear. "And I definitely don't do reruns."

How had she even stumbled into the enchantment in the first place? Was it the moment she stepped through that warped archway? Had she been marked without realizing?

Liliana spun around, instincts firing. Her senses stretched out, sharpening like a blade. The flame in her hand thickened, burning hotter now angry, impatient. She hurled it forward with a sharp flick of her wrist, and as it flew, she dived to the side, landing hard on one knee just in time to hear it tear through something.

There just at the edge of her vision

like ripping through rubber. A faint shimmer gave way and blinked out.

"That shitty thing," she hissed, brushing dust off her coat and standing up. Her voice was bitter, but the victory was short-lived.

Because a moment later, the ground vibrated beneath her boots.

A low, guttural growl rolled through the trees deep enough to rattle her ribs. Her head snapped toward the sound. It was coming fast. Too fast.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath, already backing away.

They'd been out there. Patrolling. Lurking just beyond the barrier she'd unknowingly slipped into. And now that it was gone…

"Ghouls," she breathed, her eyes narrowing as her flame surged higher. Not wide with fear, just wide enough with focus.