The path back was not the one they had come from.
This one was older.
And it had not been opened in generations.
Torchlight cast their shadows long and sharp across the blackened stone. The Deepguard marched in formation — eight of them, silent as the grave, their bronze armor whispering with each step like breath through chisel-worn halls.
Rei walked near the middle, the gem of Skarnveil thudding faintly against his hip with every stride. Each pulse matched his heartbeat. Each breath felt heavier than the last.
Not from exhaustion.
But from memory.
These halls had been carved not to guide.
But to contain.
Kaia walked beside him, every muscle taut. Her beastkin senses twitched at the scent of old fire and colder fear. Her hand never strayed far from her hilt.
Durik walked ahead, no longer silent but no longer at ease. His eyes scanned every archway, every crest etched into the walls — as if trying to read a story that had never truly ended.
"Where are we?" Rei asked, voice low.
Durik didn't turn. "The Deep Roads. Used by kings and exiles. They were forged long before my time… but they remember."
One of the Deepguard glanced back. His voice was gruff behind the helm. "We are beneath the Emberwall. The air is tight. The veins run deep here — close to the heart of the mountain."
Rei frowned. "And that's safe?"
The soldier did not answer.
Kaia did. "No."
Hours passed like years in the dark.
The torches did not burn out. Their blue flame was fed by something unseen — something bound to dwarven craft and rune. But the light they gave was narrow. It did not stretch far beyond their small company.
Once, they passed a hall choked in vines of rusted ore and sleeping metal. Statues stood in alcoves — stone warriors crowned with broken helms and shattered blades.
Durik paused at one.
Kaia watched as his hand reached up and touched the shoulder of the stone dwarf, brushing dust from a faded rune carved across the chest.
"Who is he?" Rei asked.
Durik stared at the face.
"A king who turned away from the Forge," he murmured. "Chose peace… over flame."
He looked down. "He was forgotten. Buried here so his name wouldn't stain the throne."
Rei said nothing.
There were no heroes in mountains.
Only choices that sank like stone.
Later, they came upon a place where the walls opened.
Not into chambers.
But into chasms.
Black gaps between bridges of ancient steel and stone. The Deepguard crossed them in silence, their torches making the voids seem deeper — as if something vast slept just beyond the reach of sight.
Kaia paused at the edge of one. She inhaled.
"I hear breathing."
Rei stopped.
So did Durik.
The Deepguard exchanged glances.
"It is the Forge," one muttered. "It moves now. The Wyrm turns. The heat stirs the air."
But Rei felt something else.
Not heat.
Weight.
His mark throbbed faintly again — not burning, not bleeding. Just… reminding.
I'm still here.
He walked faster after that.
When they broke into the upper levels, the halls grew more ornate.
The stone was polished, veined with silver and traces of flameglass. Reliefs carved into the walls depicted ancient battles, gods in chains, and beasts of wing and maw crushed beneath dwarven steel.
In one fresco, a giant horned shadow loomed behind the armies.
Its eyes were carved in black gem.
Rei stopped.
So did the light.
The gem at his side pulsed once — faintly.
Then again.
Durik noticed. "That wall…"
Rei stared at it. The shadow in the fresco was not the Wyrm.
It had cloven hooves.
And on its shoulder…
Chains.
Baphomette.
Kaia stepped forward. "They knew."
Durik exhaled. "Aye. But dwarves… we remember what we need. The rest… we bury."
The Deepguard stood silently.
Not one of them looked at the fresco.
They climbed further.
The air grew warmer. Fresher.
Rei could smell iron and smoke now — not from ruin, but from life. From forges breathing, hammers singing.
And voices.
Dwarven voices.
Chanting. Praying. Forging.
Then, finally — the great archway.
Massive gates of rune-wrought iron stood before them, etched with the crest of House Rurik: a flame rising from an anvil, surrounded by chains.
One of the Deepguard raised a gauntlet.
The gates groaned.
Then opened.
Rei squinted.
The light was not sunlight.
It was forge-light.
Amber. Endless. Alive.
And beyond it…
Throneforge.