Poppy's Adventure

The wall shrieks open, and the hidden gap breathes out cold iron and old blood. Poppy and Vael squeeze into the passage, its walls close enough to scrape their shoulders.

The corridor drops away in shallow steps. Dust skitters underfoot, and the steady hum grows louder, as if the stone itself is warning them away.

A narrow slit of amber light flashes ahead, then vanishes. Something moves beyond the bend, quick and deliberate, not trapped, waiting.

The passage opens into a cramped chamber of black stone and iron ribs. At its center stands Cinder-Caller Veyr, one hand on a rune-carved altar, the other stained dark with fresh soot and blood.

Behind him, a side alcove stirs with armored shapes, and Vael bares his teeth as the betrayal finally takes form.

Poppy closes the distance and catches Vael’s hand. His claws tense at first, then ease when her grip stays firm.

Vael turns his head toward her, the anger in his face giving way to a strained, startled look.

Poppy does not let go. Veyr remains at the altar, watching them as if he has already counted their steps.

The armored shapes shift in the alcove, but the two of them stand linked in the mouth of the chamber, no longer easy prey.

Poppy lets the chamber see her now, not as a runner in the doorway, but as someone planted beside Vael. The iron-edged passage behind them exhales a cold draft, and the altar’s amber glow gutters across black stone.

Vael lifts his chin toward the altar, claws flexing once before settling. He shifts his stance with Poppy at his side, facing the threat instead of the shadows.

The armored shapes slide farther from the alcove, metal whispering over stone. Their line tightens, cutting off the open chamber behind Poppy and Vael.

The passage is still open behind them.