"Go," Saguna said, his voice steady despite the chaos around them. "Create your distraction. I'll kindle the flame."
Radji and Osa exchanged a look, then nodded. Without another word, they sprinted toward the shadow spire, Radji's earth abilities already stirring the ground beneath their feet while Osa's water formed protective barriers around them.
Saguna watched them go, his heart clenching with worry, then forced himself to focus on the task at hand. The fire circle lay before him, its blackened stones arranged in patterns that spoke of generations of ritual use. He could feel the residual heat trapped within the volcanic rock, waiting to be awakened.
Professor Nyala took position at the edge of the ruins, her silver sigils forming a defensive perimeter. "Quickly, Mr. Taksa. Once you begin, there's no stopping."
Saguna knelt in the center of the circle and opened the red pouch. The ember dust glowed faintly in the gathering twilight, each grain pulsing with trapped fire. As his fingers touched the powder, warmth shot up his arm, meeting the heat that already burned within him.
From across the ruins came the sound of Radji's distraction, a deep rumble as the earth itself groaned and shifted near the spire. The shadows immediately responded, flowing toward the disturbance like iron filings drawn to a magnet.
"Now," Saguna whispered, pouring the ember dust into the circle's center.
The reaction was instantaneous. Fire erupted from the stones, not wild flames but controlled, purposeful heat that formed intricate patterns in the air. The jasper stone at Saguna's throat blazed so brightly it hurt to look at directly, and the final line of his triangle mark completed itself with a sensation like lightning racing through his veins.
"The third anchor is set!" Professor Nyala called out, triumph in her voice.
But even as she spoke, disaster struck.
A sound unlike anything Saguna had ever heard echoed across the ruins. Not a roar, but something wet and organic, like bones breaking inside flesh. The shadow spire began to convulse, its dark surface rippling like disturbed water. And from within its depths, something began to emerge.
Not the formless shadows they had faced before, but something horrifyingly tangible.
First came the arms — six human limbs of different sizes, some muscled, others withered, all ending in elongated fingers tipped with black claws. They gripped the edges of the spire's opening like a spider climbing from a well. Then came the torso — or rather, torsos. Multiple human bodies fused together at the spine, creating an obscene centipede-like form that defied comprehension.
"By all the elements," Professor Nyala breathed, her face pale with horror. "What is that thing?"
Three partially formed faces were embedded across the creature's chest, their eyes blinking independently while their mouths moved in silent screams. Where a lower body should be, a writhing mass of what looked like intestines or roots extended, allowing the creature to move with nauseating fluidity.
The entity — the thing that had been feeding on Teluk Jati's people for months — pulled itself fully from the spire. When it spoke, its voice was a chorus of the drained villagers, all speaking in unison.
"The fire-child returns to kindle flames... but flames can be... snuffed..."
Saguna recognized some of the voices. Mrs. Sari, who had sold fish at the market. Young Tommy who had played with him as children. His stomach lurched as he realized this creature had been using their life force, their very essence, to grow stronger.
The emergence of the entity sent a shockwave across the village that disrupted more than just the physical world. The partial manifestation was interfering with the ritual itself. The fire circle flickered and wavered, its flames struggling against an oppressive presence that seemed to drain warmth from the very air.
"The anchors!" Professor Nyala shouted over a rising wind that carried the stench of decay. "The triangle is faltering!"
Saguna felt it too, the connection between the three points growing strained. In the distance, he could sense the earth anchor at the shrine faltering, its stone circle struggling to maintain coherence against the psychic pressure of the emerging creature. The water anchor held stronger, but even it was beginning to waver.
The creature moved with horrible grace, its many arms propelling it forward while its root-like appendages left trails of black ichor on the ground. Where the substance touched, plants withered instantly.
"I can't hold it!" Saguna cried, pouring more of his fire into the circle. The flames responded, but they were fighting a losing battle against the entity's life-draining presence.
Through the chaos, Radji's voice carried across the ruins: "The earth anchor — it's failing!"
And then, with a sound like reality itself sighing, the eastern shrine's anchor point went dark. Saguna felt the loss like a physical blow, the triangle's power diminishing by a third. The fire circle guttered, its flames reduced to mere flickers.
"Two anchors," Professor Nyala said grimly, her defensive sigils straining against the creature's approaching presence. "It's not enough to fully seal the breach, but it might contain it."
The entity seemed to sense the ritual's interference. Its multiple faces turned toward the ruins, and when they smiled in unison, the expression was made of remembered human joy twisted into something obscene.
"Two points... do not make... a triangle..." it said in that chorus of stolen voices. "But they make... a line... leading straight... to you..."
It began moving toward them, each step leaving patches of withered ground. Where its presence passed, the very air seemed to grow stale and lifeless.
"The ritual is incomplete!" Professor Nyala commanded, her barriers beginning to crack under the entity's approach. "We must retreat!"
But Saguna couldn't move. The fire circle, though weakened, still connected him to the other anchor point. He could feel Osa's water anchor in the jungle, holding strong but struggling. If he abandoned the fire circle now, they would lose even the partial containment they'd achieved.
"Saguna!" Osa's voice, closer now. Through the swirling shadows, Saguna saw his friend and Radji running toward the ruins, lesser shadows in pursuit.
"The triangle," Radji called out, understanding immediately. "Reform the triangle!"
Without the stone anchor points to guide them, they would have to become the anchors themselves. Saguna felt a surge of hope—perhaps they could still complete the ritual.
But the creature had other plans. It raised two of its arms, and the pursuing shadows suddenly accelerated, flowing around Radji and Osa like a dark tide. The two young men found themselves cut off, trapped in a circle of writhing darkness.
"Stay where you... are, little flames..." the entity hissed, its voices now including new tones — Radji's analytical cadence, Osa's easy humor, though distorted and wrong. "Let me... taste your... warmth..."
The fire circle continued to burn, but without the third anchor, it could only maintain a partial seal. The breach remained contained, but not closed. The creature could manifest, but its power was limited, constrained by the incomplete ritual.
A stalemate. Exactly what they had feared.
Through the flames, Saguna caught a glimpse of something that made his heart leap, a familiar golden light from the direction of his family's house. Sahara's presence, stronger than ever before.
Not a failure, little brother, her voice whispered in his mind. A beginning. You've learned what you face. And now you know, this is only the guardian. The true threat waits beyond.
The creature seemed to hear her too, its multiple faces turning toward the house with expressions of hunger.
"The fire-marked's fragment... grows bold... Perhaps it is time... to collect... what remains..."
"No!" Saguna started to rise from the circle, but Professor Nyala's hand fell on his shoulder.
"You cannot abandon the anchor," she said quietly. "Not without releasing what we've managed to contain."
The creature laughed, and the sound was like children's laughter played backwards. "Indeed... Stay, little Walker... Tend your... incomplete fire... I have other... business... to attend to..."
It began moving toward Saguna's house, toward Sahara's room, its multiple arms carrying it with disturbing speed while its root-like appendages left a trail of death in the grass.
The ritual was incomplete. The breach remained open. And somewhere in the gathering darkness, Saguna could sense other entities stirring, drawn by the partial manifestation of something that should never have existed.
Their first battle was over, but the war for Zendirah had only just begun.
And now they knew their enemy had a face—many faces, all stolen from people they had failed to save.