"Where did they go?!"
"This doesn't look like concealment magic to me… nor teleportation magic."
"Shut your mouths, all of you, and split up. They can't be far."
Bestaria was irritated. And of course she would be — the enemy had vanished right in front of all of us.
"Listen well, Eris: if this human escapes, I'm going to hold YOU responsible. Are you hearing me?"
The weight of that sentence descended over my shoulders like lead.
"I beg forgiveness, Bestaria. I simply don't understand what happened — as much as you don't. As you know, humans have no magic. And I doubt very much that the Aquamarines, or any other race, offered him the kind of magic the fairies are talking about."
"I don't care. You know what the possession of a nest's items means. I will destroy your entire planet, if necessary."
And the worst part was that there was no exaggeration at all in that threat.
A Burman with a nest in her hands didn't need anyone's permission to wipe a newly-arrived planet off the map — and my family, with all its influence, was nothing more than a grain of sand before what that woman represented. I swallowed dry and went back to thinking. Thinking was the only weapon I had left.
Because, truly, everything was very confusing to understand.
The human seemed cornered. Surrounded, disarmed, with no way out. And, somehow, he used his hero's summon to simply… disappear into the air. I knew those Treebeards were strong — the summary my family had compiled about his capabilities said specifically that. But there was no magic involved in them. Brute wooden force, nothing more.
No magic… except, perhaps, one.
"Blood magic… But I know it's a magic of the Bloodsuckers. And I don't recall it having any use other than increasing strength… or creating a doppelgänger."
Neither of the two uses explained a disappearance.
I filed the hypothesis in the same place where I kept everything that made no sense about that man — and the drawer, I admit, was getting full. My family compiled dossiers on every relevant piece of the board; the human's began thin as paper… and hadn't stopped thickening ever since.
✦ ✦ ✦
A shout tore me from my thoughts.
"EVERYONE STOP WHERE YOU ARE… Are you making a fool of me?"
Bestaria was extremely irritated — and, following her gaze, I finally saw the reason.
Despite the significant number of individuals combing the gallery, none of them were in the middle of it. None. It was as though everyone, without arranging anything, simply didn't care about that part — as though the center of the hall were the least interesting place in the universe.
"But, Lady Bestaria… there's visibly nothing in the middle—"
"I'm not interested. If there's a trapdoor, anything — you two, go over there."
Bestaria pointed to two Orghaal, who became visibly irritated at being used as mere slaves — but who didn't dare disobey.
And then came the part that chilled me.
The surprising thing wasn't the fact that no one had investigated the middle of that place — exactly the spot where Leonidas had disappeared. It was what happened next: as though something invisible prevented those two brutes from reaching the center, they mysteriously… skirted the place. A wide arc, perfect, drawn by two bodies that swore they were walking in a straight line.
"HEY… You two CAN ONLY be making a fool of me."
Bestaria advanced.
And her enormous axe cut one of the Orghaal in half.
The sound was wet and short. The two halves fell apart, and my stomach rose to my throat — but I didn't move. No one moved. Because, with Bestaria, there was no second order: either you did what she commanded, or you paid with your life. It was frightening how cruel that woman could be — and more frightening still how natural it seemed to her.
"No! I beg you… We passed through the middle, exactly as you ordered!"
"What? You want to die too? Do you think I'm BLIND? Go again. And don't you dare skirt the center again, or I'll kill you."
The Orghaal ran toward the middle — and, this time, all the eyes of the gallery accompanied him, curious to understand what was happening.
And it happened again.
At the exact same distance as the first time, the Orghaal began to skirt the center — as though there really were a wall there, solid and invisible — until he emerged on the other side, exhausted and nervous.
"There, Lady Bestaria… Did you see? There's nothing—"
The shock ran through everyone.
Because, despite the evident fear that Orghaal exuded from every pore — a genuine, animal fear, of someone who had just seen their partner become two halves — he had made exactly the same mistake. That wasn't normal. No one disobeys Bestaria twice out of stubbornness.
But Bestaria didn't care. She advanced again, weapon in hand — and it was clear that that Orghaal's future ended right there.
That was when something lit up in my mind.
✦ ✦ ✦
"Miss Bestaria, stop, please—"
The words left my mouth before I could think.
She turned to me with a rage that almost had physical weight.
"How dare a mere human give me orders…"
My face froze. My knees began to tremble. And my mouth fired off, desperate to undo the misunderstanding before it cost me my head.
"No, Miss Bestaria! What I'm saying is that maybe he isn't lying! Maybe there's a magic preventing him from going to the middle… and maybe that magic is the SAME one that made the human disappear!"
I spoke too fast, swallowing my own words, trying to explain everything at once while the axe still hovered in the air.
And then she stopped. A few centimeters from the Orghaal who had fallen out of fear of Bestaria.
Something seemed to reach the mind of that woman with the lioness face. She stayed motionless for a whole second — and then, without warning, she simply grabbed the great Orghaal as though he weighed nothing… and hurled him toward the middle of the gallery, with a strength I myself couldn't believe was possible.
The enormous body flew through the air, spinning.
And, at the exact instant it reached the point where it had skirted before… it vanished.
Swallowed by the nothing. No flash, no sound, no trace.
And a sinister smile opened on Bestaria's face.
"Well, well… who would have thought you were such an intelligent creature. Everyone, stop what you're doing and come here."
In truth, I remained nervous.
Bestaria's praise was a collar: it didn't strangle immediately, but it never came for free. And she could be dangerously unpredictable when she had an idea in her head. Even so, contradicting an order of hers was still the worst thing I could do — so I approached along with the others.
✦ ✦ ✦
"Very well. Frika — create a mana rope around the Lycan."
"Miss… the mana rope will use up all my mana. Don't you think it's better to simply wait for Bruto to come out?"
I myself thought it brave of the fairy to question Bestaria — all the more because, deep down, she was right.
We knew where the enemy was. He couldn't stay there forever. And she had already sent someone into the illusion — all it took was waiting for the return. It was the cheapest, safest, and most obvious plan.
But, before I could agree, Bestaria gave the small creature a slap — hurling her to the floor.
"Shut up and do what I ordered. Do you really think that Orghaal won't steal something that belongs to ME? You're all incompetent."
The fairy seemed frightened and in pain. And no one dared say anything.
After all, Bestaria was, by far, the strongest of everyone there — and by an enormous margin. Honestly, I always thought she was more easygoing… and only now did I understand why: it was Wignall. I never knew how different she would be with the full power in her own hands. At least Wignall listened to suggestions — however bad they were. That woman's brake was dead in a tunnel, with its chest caved in. And we were all inside the car.
"Yes, Lady…"
The fairy, even in pain, created the magic rope.
It looked like a common rope — but it glowed in a bluish tone, pulsing slowly as though it breathed. That magic was something rare: the fairies used it as training, to recover their launched arrows and, mainly, to exercise control over their own mana. Who would have thought Bestaria would think to use it like this. Deep down, the idea wasn't bad.
Just hasty.
"Lady Bestaria… what do I need to do when I reach the other side?"
The Lycan spoke.
Aside from me, he was of one of the weakest races there — stronger than a human, yes, but even weaker than the fairies, due to the total absence of magic. And, even so, he was frightening to look at: long claws, an oversized snout, nearly two and a half meters of muscle and gray fur. But even he knew his own place, and chose not to question the idea. Being large didn't necessarily mean being strong — and, against a Burman, a Lycan had no chance at all.
"Very well, Castor… I just need you to pull the rope twice if it's safe, and three times if it's dangerous. We'll pull you back after thirty seconds — so you don't need to worry. Just focus on observing the other side and accumulating information about what might be there."
Bestaria's idea was good.
Identify dangers and opportunities, maintain a solid line of communication, all without risking her own skin. Burmans were shrewd when it came to battle — and a Burman woman raised that knowledge to another level. She had chosen the Lycan on purpose: despite being the weakest, he was resilient and agile. Someone like that is hard to kill fast. And thirty seconds was enough time to pull him out before he died.
Coldness and efficiency in the same sentence. Lives used as measuring instruments. That was exactly how a Burman thought.
✦ ✦ ✦
"I'm going, then."
It was clear, in the eyes of that half-wolf, that the tension was taking him to the heights.
And I knew exactly why: the Orghaal hadn't come back. If that were something simple like a common illusion, he would have come out of there long ago. Of course it could be as Bestaria said — a vault full of treasures on the other side, and the Orghaal in there filling his pockets. But that was the kind of thing believed only by someone greedy to the point of blindness.
Because nothing there was happening as it should happen.
And, honestly, I still asked myself another thing, beneath it all: how did Leonidas manage to enter the nest without destroying the guardian? Deep down, he could only do that if he had the key to that place — which was impossible. He had been chosen at random for that mission. He had no secret item, no dark desire over the nest. In truth, I was almost certain that, if Bestaria had managed to get rid of the guardian alone, he wouldn't even have come down here.
While Bestaria pushed the Lycan into that unknown place, the asphyxiating silence that remained from the wait didn't take long to be filled — by something that flooded my mind.
"Lady Bestaria… don't you find all this strange?"
My question fell heavy over everyone who was there.
Maybe everyone was thinking the same as me. But no one had the courage — or the intimacy — enough to say that to Bestaria.
"What do you mean by this, human?"
"Well… I still can't understand how he managed to enter the nest. And, honestly, the hardest part should already have been done — and, even so, there's still an illusion in here that can be considered extremely high level. All of this… to hide the treasure of a dragon that hasn't been here for many hundreds, maybe thousands of years. Don't you think it's too much? In truth… I feel as though this isn't as simple as we believe. There are too many conveniences and discrepancies in this place for it to be simple."
My point was simple.
That place looked nothing like the nests that had already been found. Of course — the accounts my family had access to, at the cost of much influence and much more money, were all of lesser dragons. But the story was always the same, or at least it always followed the same cadence: two guardians that, once overcome, gave access to what could only be described as a palace — accumulated wealth, relics, fortuitous fragments of the dragon's past.
In contrast, what we saw when this gate opened was a giant nothing. Nothing, beyond a magic that could very well be a trap.
Something there made no sense.
"Hmm… yes. According to my family, nests should be luxurious and comfortable places."
"Yes… In the history of our people, few were found. But all were beautiful, and full of accumulated riches."
Both the fairies and the other races seemed to agree with me.
In truth, my speech was like the opening of a river — and the accounts began to flood the place, each race pouring out the little it knew about nests, all pointing to the same conclusion.
"SILENCE, all of you… I think you didn't understand where we are. This nest doesn't belong to a mere lesser dragon."
Everyone fell silent before Bestaria's irritated voice. And I didn't blame them — I was scared too.
But, come to think of it… Bestaria didn't seem to be wrong.
Because that was the first nest ever found that didn't belong to a lesser dragon, nor to one of middle tier. We were talking about a nest said to belong to one of the 4. And, if dragons were already strong and unreachable creatures… the 4 must be considered gods. Thinking that way relieved the tension — but didn't make it vanish. Because being in a place like that also meant another thing: this nest could escape any and all rules. Using the others as a parameter was, in this case, inconceivable.
✦ ✦ ✦
It was in the middle of that conversation that the fairy holding the mana rope felt a tug.
"I think he's alive in there!"
After the first tug, came a second.
Safe. I felt the relief begin to fill my body — two tugs, the agreed code, everything within the plan…
And then came the third.
And, along with it, the rope was pulled with an absurd violence — dragging the small fairy at a dash toward the void. Bestaria grabbed her in the air… only to begin being pulled too, her boots opening furrows in the packed earth.
"HEY! You there! Move those asses and help us!"
I ran toward Bestaria and grabbed her by her enormous waist — but me and nothing were exactly the same thing.
It was when I turned to ask for help that the shock hit me.
"Hey! Where are you going?!"
Everyone who was with us simply began to run out of the nest. Desperate. Without looking back.
And yes — it made all the sense in the world. Bestaria had pulled the rope of each one of them to the limit: an Orghaal cut in half, a fairy slapped, death threats handed out like greetings. Anyone sensible would have taken the first opening to abandon that madwoman to her own fate.
But there I was. Holding her.
"Those useless ones…"
Bestaria was furious — but, to my surprise, she didn't dare let go of the small fairy.
The little creature screamed desperately, and her body seemed to wither before my eyes — the mana rope being torn from inside her, thread by thread, as though someone were unraveling the fairy's very soul through her arm. I couldn't understand why she simply didn't undo the magic. Maybe there was some rule she was obligated to follow. Maybe undoing it, at that point, was worse. Her screams of pain terrified me — and the rope kept being pulled, firm and constant, as though something on the other side made an absolute point of taking us into that illusion.
"HOLD ON! We're going in!"
I saw the fairy reach the limit and vanish.
I saw Bestaria begin to vanish along.
And, at the last instant before being taken too… I let go.
My fingers opened on their own, and the last thing I saw of that woman was her face — turned toward me, her eyes wide, the pure shock of someone who didn't expect that, of all people, from me. And then she was gone. Swallowed by the nothing, like all the others.
✦ ✦ ✦
I didn't want to die.
That was too much. It made no sense. I wasn't greedy to the point of putting my life in danger for a treasure that maybe didn't even exist — I would never get myself killed over anything. I had said exactly those words to the human, hours ago. Apparently, I was the only person in that valley who followed their own advice.
In truth, I already had everything I could have, with my family.
And there was, of course, the other truth — the one I only admitted in the dark of my own head. I was afraid of being killed by Bestaria. But, if she were taken into that place and died… I would be free. There would still remain many problems with the others, yes. But, with my family's help, maybe I could manage to survive — after all, the strongest ones would be dead.
All of that, of course, presupposed one thing: that Bestaria died.
"Please… die in this place."
My mouth spoke, on its own, in desperation.
✦ ✦ ✦
After a few hours, I was still there. Seated. Waiting.
Maybe I had a weight on my conscience for having abandoned my savior. Maybe I just wanted to be sure she had died. I still couldn't say which of the two things kept me there — and maybe it was both at the same time, sharing the same bench.
My relationship with Bestaria was always a mixture of rage and pride.
I hated her, because she was someone perverse and unbalanced. And I adored her, because she was the only one who stayed at my side when I arrived at this place — maybe because she wanted a pet, maybe because she felt pity. I never could say. But the naked fact was only one: I was only alive because of her.
Not wanting to die for her madness didn't mean I would abandon her if she came out alive.
Even understanding that, if she lived… I, very probably, would be dead.
And it was while I observed the void, trapped in that knot with no way out, that something finally changed.
Something was coming back.
First, I saw the face — and my blood ran cold, because I knew that feline face. Bestaria was alive. My thoughts raced between fear and acceptance: fear, because I knew she would never believe me. Acceptance, because I knew I would never be capable of beating a Burman.
But, while the face emerged from the nothing, something was strange.
First, the expression: serene. Serene in a way I had never seen on that face — something rare to the point of seeming wrong.
Then, the height: too low. Very low. As though she were… dragging herself.
And then, as more and more of it emerged from the void, I finally saw a hand holding the head. Then, an entire arm. And, with a cruel delay, my mind assembled the complete image: what hung from that arm was Bestaria's head.
Only the head.
I fell on my backside to the floor, no strength in my legs, while the arm became a body — and the body, a face.
"Leonidas…?"
The man before me still had a stain of blood on his face.
And there was something different about him. I couldn't say what — I only knew it was there, somewhere between the posture and the silence. He looked at me… and the look went through. As though he could see inside me. As though he could strip me of everything — skin, secrets, intentions — with the same ease with which one turns a page.
"Almost…"