Chapter 8
You'll die in this cave. But it was far too vast to simply call it a cave. The labyrinthine, sprawling underground expanse teemed with unfamiliar insects, birds, and plants growing in terrifying density. The first impression hit like a gut punch: this place was a world utterly divorced from the surface. And that hunch was dead on.
"Cars can't go down here," the guild master said, forcing us out of the vehicle.
"Let's head in. One thing to watch out for: never lock eyes with a dark elf for too long. To them, prolonged eye contact means one of two things. Either you're declaring a fight to the death... or you're promising sex until one of you drops. Very steamy stuff."
He'd traded with dark elves for years, and it showed—no lies there. He knew their culture inside out.
Knight Captain Marco and two knights. Me and the guild master. Our group of five plunged into the massive cave mouth, descending deeper and deeper into what felt like the gateway to hell.
It didn't take long before we ran into dark elves.
"Humans? Got your permits?"
Black skin. Pointed ears. Stunningly beautiful faces. But those huge eyes held a chilling, emotionless gaze that sent shivers down the spine.
"Greetings, dwellers of the depths. Of course we have our permits."
The alchemy guild master handed over a metal plate etched with ornate patterns, smooth as if he'd done it a thousand times. The elves scrutinized it meticulously, then pointed at me and the other three.
"Who's this lot?"
"My companions."
"You're a regular here, human, so you can enter. But they're outsiders to us. To go in, we need your guarantee."
"I guarantee them. If they cause trouble, they'll face judgment under the laws of shadow—and I'll forfeit my entry rights forever."
"Fine. You're cleared. Purpose of entry?"
"To see Her Majesty the Queen."
The dark elf let out a peculiar snort. The guild master glanced at me and whispered it was their version of a sigh.
"Impossible, but good luck anyway. The queen's holed up, refusing even the tribal chiefs and ministers."
"Worth a shot, right? Soul Flame is essential."
"I get it. You're in!"
With that, the massive stone gate began rising slowly—not on ropes or wires, but gripped by writhing shadows. This place was a freakshow in every way.
And so we finally stood before Kaien, the dark elf kingdom in the Shadow Forest. That's when the guild master's nagging kicked into high gear.
"Before entering Kaien, knights—hide your weapons. Tuck them somewhere inconspicuous."
"Our weapons?"
"Dark elves don't welcome armed outsiders. Paranoid bunch. Look at me: Yurtel's alchemy guild master, and I came without a single guard."
He scanned the surroundings meticulously as he spoke.
"They hate crowds of armed humans swarming in. To win them over, keep numbers low and weapons hidden. Don't flaunt them."
"Understood."
The knights concealed their arms. But the guild master wasn't done.
"Dark elves are breathtakingly beautiful, men and women alike. But they're also incredibly lustful. Folks say nothing beds down more than a dark elf, succubus, or a man's left hand."
Why bring that up now? But his face was deadly serious as he eyed us.
"If one seduces you, resist. You could die in the act—or wake up to a squad of fully armed dark elves at your door, demanding retribution for defiling their clan's daughter."
Exhaustion etched his features, and for good reason. My Oracle had shown me his past: the guy had suffered plenty at dark elf hands in Kaien.
"Dark elves are aggressive, treacherous, cunning, and wicked. Ruthless to outsiders with no ties. Remember: we're easy marks to bully and rob. No one in there will protect us."
The knights' faces soured. Mine too. I stared at the looming walls of shadow and stone drawing nearer, a question bubbling up naturally.
Treacherous, cunning, wicked as a specialty. How does their society even hold together?
"How do dark elves maintain a society like that?"
"Thanks to Blood Oaths. Adult dark elves can bind their very souls with these oaths. Break one, and you drop dead on the spot. That's what keeps their world spinning."
He pulled out the entry permit and passed it around. Up close, we saw the "inscription" wasn't letters at all.
"Shadows?"
Shadows, meticulously shaped and etched into the metal.
"That's the Blood Oath. When sworn, a shadow imprints clearly on an object or body. It vanishes once fulfilled. Mine renews every three years to keep the shadow active."
By the time our chat wrapped, the dark elf city loomed ahead. Before entering, the guild master dropped his final warning.
"In other words: never trust a dark elf's word without a Blood Oath. The only time they tell the truth is to sell a bigger lie. Stay sharp."
With that, he fell silent. We stepped into Kaien.
"Impossible, Cornac."
"Please, Minister. If a direct audience is out, could you at least pass on a message? We need Soul Flame. Desperately."
"Think we don't know that? It's a major revenue source for Kaien. Your human gold matters to us. But the queen's decree stands—we can't override it. Drives us mad too. She won't see ministers, even rejects tribal chiefs' direct pleas."
Our first stop in Kaien: the kingdom's minister, in a lavish home of bizarre architecture. Cornac (first I'd heard his name) begged with almost groveling desperation, but the minister looked equally frustrated as he refused.
"You know how many guild masters from other regions showed up yesterday and today? No dice for me either. Sorry, truly—no way around it."
Cornac slumped, dejected. "Understood. Thanks for seeing us, Minister."
"Long journey—rest a day or two, shake off the fatigue. I'm stumped too, damn it."
Out of the room, his gloomy mask shattered; he scratched his head furiously.
"Eh, expected as much."
He eyed me. "But what if the Great Seer steps up?"
Great! Seer! I swallowed the urge to shout it. No time for jokes—we needed a plan.
"Use my prophecy powers to earn the dark elves' trust, then leverage that for an audience with the queen... right?"
"Exactly."
"How? Set up a street stall?"
"You'd be scammed naked and parading the streets in three days flat, Great Seer. No good. We need a prophecy style that hooks dark elves."
A sly, almost wicked grin crept across his face.
"Just to confirm—for insurance: you can really see people's pasts and futures?"
I nodded. My Divine Descent skill never lied.
"Perfect. Follow me."
Brisk and confident, he led our five-man crew onward. Dark elf stares weren't friendly—women licking lips with hungry gazes, men fingering daggers at their belts while glaring at our three guards, especially Marco. The vibe worsened the farther we went.
"Guild master? Cornac! Where the hell are we headed?"
Blood scent thickened. Wounded dark elves multiplied. Light daggers gave way to longswords and spears—heavily armed killers everywhere.
He just shot a "trust me" look and pressed on. Our destination: the walls. Towering. Solid. Reeking of blood.
Soldiers—dark elves—clustered there.
"Hey! Humans! This is the front line! Not for outsiders like you!"
A dark elf with a longsword at his hip and spears strapped to his back bellowed, blocking us.
Cornac approached smoothly, greeting him.
"Hail, gatekeepers of the Wall of Blood, shield of Kaien against the Shadow Forest beasts! Thanks to your tireless efforts, we walk these streets safely."
Honeyed words, but the elf was unimpressed.
"Restricted zone—no outsiders. Turn back, or I'll cut you down."
"Hear us out first. Don't you want to know when the beasts will strike next?"
The dark elf barked a hollow laugh. "No one predicts that. Not even our top shamans and prophets."
"We can. Behold—the Great Seer Aiden! Famous among humans for unmatched prophecy. Reads pasts and futures at a glance. Man loved by the gods. The infallible one—that's Aiden!"
His hype had my face burning, but he barreled on.
Curiosity piqued? Or just bored entertainment? "This scrawny human outdoes our shamans and prophets?"
"Yep. Wager on it? I'll rattle off your past and future on sight. Miss, and 1,000 runes are yours."
Other elves swarmed our chatty warrior, eyes alight with interest. Cornac knew his audience: stoke their competitive fire, tap their superstitious culture.
"Deal! Show us, oh great seer—divine my fate!"
Under the crowd's piercing stares, the warrior who'd first spoken stepped up.
I started to meet his eyes, then recalled the warning—fight or fuck—and dropped my gaze to his chest.
Moments passed as my Oracle skill summoned info windows.
My silence drew his roaring laughter toward Cornac. "Quiet, eh? Looking like 1,000 runes for me!"
Cornac just shrugged. "The Great Seer doesn't lie. His rep and power are real."
"We dark elves have the finest shamans and prophets. None surpass us—and even ours don't recite pasts and futures like that!"
The warrior crowed confidently. Then:
"Sabernak. Curved Leaf Tribe. Son of Durdak. Grandson of Nilar. Childhood nickname: Naknak. First shadow spirit contracted: Dulson. Site: Broken Finger Rock, southwest Shadow Forest."
Words flowed slowly from my lips. His booming laugh cut off. He turned to me.
I avoided his eyes, pressing on. "In three days, you die in battle with a beast."
One line, and Sabernak—the elf who'd first spoken—his eyes flew wide open.