The rising sun uncurled over Orahm like a molten petal, staining the topmost crystal domes in hues of peach and vermilion. For Shin Soma and his companions, dawn arrived wordlessly, diffused through a canopy of quartz archways that cast lattice shadows across their makeshift camp. The silvery sands outside the veil chilled the desert air, but inside, the slumbering city exhaled warmth as if heartbeats of moon‑light still lingered in its deepest arteries.
Laverna stirred first, sliding from beneath a woven thermal blanket and brushing dewy flakes of crystal dust from her tunic. The preceding night's uneasy dreams clung to her, flashes of chain links splintering into moonbeams and a distant voice calling her name through halls she had never walked. She rubbed her temples, then glanced down to find Shin still sleeping on his back beneath the crystal vines, one arm draped across his chest, the orb nestled within his palm. The orb's glow cycled with the gentle rhythm of his breathing, pulses now slower, gentler since she had forced him to rest.
Zera's footfalls crunched over glassy soil as she returned from an early perimeter sweep. The knight's golden braid fell across her shoulder, and her armor bore new scratches from sand‑grit. She knelt, drew a quick map in the dust and marked three Xs.
"Outer pathways are still stable," she said. "No sign of new guardians. But the north‑eastern quadrant collapsed sometime during the night. We will need to detour once we push deeper."
Maika, huddled beside a flickering stove rune, handed Zera a canteen of sun‑warmed water. "And Tessara?"
"Still communing with the loom." Zera took a careful sip. "Whatever echo she hears, it's getting louder."
Just then, a lilting hum drifted along the boulevard—moon‑whisper song woven with hush, the unique resonance of Tessara's voice. She appeared between columns of translucent stone, her blindfolded eyes fixed forward as though sighting stars only she could perceive. The Kagetsu no Men shimmered faintly on her face, the lines of that half‑mirror crest threading through her cheekbones like quicksilver veins.
"It is time," she announced, voice ringing lightly in the early light.
Shin stirred awake at her words. Laverna knelt, brushing a strand of hair from his brow. "The city calls again," she said softly.
He sat up, shook residual fatigue from his limbs, and slipped his orb back in his pocket. Though he tried to compose a steady smile, Zera's keen eyes caught the tightness at the corner of his mouth. She stepped forward, knelt, and squeezed his forearm.
"Are you truly all right?" she asked under her breath.
Shin's smile deepened—warm but tinged with the grief of responsibility. "I will be."
Zera studied him for one heartbeat longer, then nodded. She rose, drawing Clarent a few inches from its scabbard to let the blade breathe air before sliding it home again.
The party packed camp with the efficiency of soldiers: folding blankets, extinguishing the smokeless fire, imprinting the ledger of the night's details into Maika's runic journal. Tessara stood facing the archway's moonstone disc, shoulders rigid as if awaiting command from unseen heralds.
"South‑east," she said finally. "There is an echo that way, beneath the sands."
Shin donned his cloak, tightened the grip of his orb in his left pocket, and swept his gaze over the five faces before him. "We move," he said.
The boulevard fanned into smaller arterial lanes, each lined with houses molded of fused sandstone and shards of translucent quartz. Motes of light danced across windows where fractured panes caught morning rays, splintering them into rainbows that flitted like birds across walls.
Maika reached out, brushing a fingertip along a door that opened without a hinge or a handle. Within, an empty room lay buried in dust. A low table of melted glass had once served as a hearth; now it lay cracked. She lingered at the threshold before catching up to the group.
"This city slept long before Falzath rose," she whispered.
"It feels as if time folded over it," Laverna replied.
The orb pulsed sharply in Shin's hand, guiding him around a corner. Ahead, a towering structure emerged: a spiral ziggurat of mirrored steps leading to a cone of sandstone crowned with a colossal lens. Tessara's voice trembled:
"The Celestial Sundial. The gate sits beneath its foundation."
Zera's eyes swept its circumference. "Traps?"
Tessara nodded. "Only those unworthy."
They ascended the spiral stairs in a single file, boots clinking on crystal slabs. At the summit, the lens captured sunlight, bending it through intricate prisms that directed a pillar of light onto a smaller dais at the base of the ziggurat. Shin traced the beam's trajectory with a finger and realized it created a path of illumination toward the entrance below.
He motioned Maika forward. "Can you shift the beam?"
She donned the Taiyo no Men on her face and raised both her hands, summoning a ring of golden glyphs. With a gentle tilt of her wrists, she refracted the light, moving it a few degrees east. The beam slid and struck a glyph carved into the ziggurat wall. The symbol flared red, and a faint grinding echoed from beneath.
A slab of floor fell away at the ziggurat's base, revealing stairs descending into darkness.
Maika exhaled. "Door unlocked."
Zera grinned. "That seemed too easy."
"It was step one," Tessara murmured.
The stairwell spiraled downward, walls of raw sandstone etched with scenes of fox‑eared figures weaving threads of starlight around spinning looms. Glimmers of quartz embedded in the carvings caught their torchlight, making the ancient artisans appear alive.
At the staircase's bottom, they entered a vaulted corridor whose floor resembled flowing dunes rendered in smooth opaline stone. Here, the first trap awaited.
A low thrumming filled the air, and from alcoves emerged three crystalline constructs shaped like falcons, wings spread wide. Glass feathers flashed with inner light as they hovered above the ground. In the center of the corridor lay a raised circular platform inlaid with seven pointed stars.
Shin stepped forward, but Tessara placed an arm across his chest. "Fox‑Heir leads, but not alone," she said, tone urgent. "This trial demands alignment of forces."
Maika studied the falcons, noticing that their talons rested on shifting tiles that matched the star pattern at the floor's center. "Pressure‑switch grid," she muttered. "Each falcon must be anchored."
Zera unshouldered her bow. "If they move when we do, we need speed."
"No," Shin said. He walked to one star tile and pressed his boot lightly. The falcons rotated, aligning their gaze with him. He felt the orb pulse thrice, then the falcons returned to neutral.
He faced the group. "We must stand on these seven stars concurrently."
Maika frowned, counting. "But we are five."
"Five and mirror," Tessara corrected. She pressed her palm to the Kagetsu no Men; moonlight spilled into a shimmering phantom shape which floated to a tile, weightless but luminous. The sixth star glowed.
Zera twirled Clarent in her grip. "Still need one."
Laverna knelt and unsheathed her jamadhars. She placed them tip‑down on the seventh tile, crossing their hilts. "Fox‑fire carries weight," she said.
Shin nodded and stepped onto his star. Instantly, the falcons locked into place, wings folding down. Gears clicked behind the walls. The corridor's far door slid open.
First trap cleared.
Beyond lay a chamber flooded ankle‑deep with liquid sand, fine grains swirling like water yet flowing with tide‑like currents. In its center floated a single obelisk suspended by narrow beams of pale light. Carved upon the obelisk were glyphs that shimmered with internal blue fire.
Shin approached, the sand swirling around his boots without wetting them. He placed a hand upon the stone. Glyphs ignited, rushing upward, coalescing into a sigil shaped like a fox curling around a lantern. Its light projected onto the far wall, forming words in an ancient tongue.
Zera stepped closer. "Can you read it?"
Shin nodded, voice low. "It names me Light‑Born, heir to threads woven beneath twin moons and the radiant sun."
Maika's brow knitted. "Light‑Born? A new title."
Tessara traced a finger through the floating projection. "Light‑Born translates roughly to chosen vessel of dawn within the prophecy. Each title is a stage of the Fox‑Heir's ascent."
Laverna placed a hand on his shoulder. "The burden grows."
"The trust, too," Shin said quietly.
The obelisk shuddered and sank until it disappeared beneath the swirling sand. Where it vanished, stairs rose leading upward through a narrow shaft. A breeze of cooler air drifted from above, carrying whispers of open sky.
The stairs ended in a courtyard ringed by half‑ruined arches, a crystal fountain at its center. Seven plinths circled the fountain, each topped with a glass sculpture of a fox bearing a different expression—joy, sorrow, curiosity, anger, fear, serenity, and resolve.
As they entered, the sculptures creaked to life. Their eyes lit with molten silver and turned to follow the intruders. A deep hum vibrated beneath their feet.
Maika drew her spear. "Second trap."
Zera scanned the courtyard. "Patterns?"
Tessara tilted her head, listening to inaudible harmonics. "Each statue sings an emotion. We must answer in kind."
Shin approached the fountain. Water still trickled inside, falling over cracks in glass that refracted droplets into shimmering arcs. He inhaled, sensing the orb's pulse aligning with each emotional tone.
"Seven hearts," he murmured. He turned to his companions.
Maika stepped to the Joy statue, her sun‑warm presence harmonizing with its tune. The statue's glow softened.
Laverna faced the Sorrow fox and allowed memories of loss to surface, yet she held them with acceptance. The statue calmed.
Zera confronted the Anger statue, channeling her rage against tyranny. Its eyes cooled.
Tessara stood before Serenity, singing a single note. The statue bowed its head.
That left Curiosity and Fear.
Shin placed the orb between his palms, focusing on curiosity's hunger for truth and fear's acknowledgement of uncertainty. As he centered both within his heart, the final statues fell dormant.
A resonant chime spread through the courtyard. The water in the fountain brightened, coalescing into a spinning disk of crystal. It floated to Shin and fused with his orb, forming a ring of glyphs around its crescent symbol.
The trap undone, the ground trembled. Sections of the courtyard floor folded open to reveal a wide ramp descending deeper.
The ramp led to an amphitheater carved into the rock beneath Orahm, its ceiling a vast dome of night‑dark crystal. At its center flickered a single lantern, cold flame hovering within a glass cage. Shin approached, footsteps echoing in the grand silence.
Without warning, a figure shaped from swirling dust appeared atop the far balcony. The silhouette of a woman cloaked in tattered robes, unseen face crowned by braids that glimmered silver.
Laverna's hand hovered near her hilt. "Who…?"
The figure vanished, reappearing on another balcony, then another, always at the edge of vision.
Tessara's voice wavered. "An echo… not a threat."
Shin raised the orb. Light spilled into the dome, revealing a mural across the ceiling: a fox‑shaped constellation encircled by seven smaller stars. At the constellation's heart blazed a glyph identical to the one that had named him Light‑Born.
"Trust in unseen forces," he whispered, remembering the theme etched into his mind.
The woman's silhouette paused directly overhead, haloed by the mural's central star. Though features remained obscured, her posture radiated poise and sorrow. She lifted a hand as if offering an invitation, then dissolved into a shower of silver motes.
Zera exhaled sharply. "Someone watches us."
"Guides, perhaps," Maika said.
Shin turned to the lantern. Within its glass cage burnt a flame burned that gave off neither heat nor smoke. He opened the cage door. The flame lifted, licking at the air but refusing to leave.
Tessara reached out and plucked the flame with her fingertips. Instead of burning, she cradled it like a living butterfly.
"It is memory," she breathed. "It wishes to be carried."
She pressed it into Shin's chest. The flame sank through fabric and fused to the orb. Shin gasped, feeling warmth spread through his ribs.
"Light‑Born carries dawnfire," Tessara said.
The amphitheater echoed with the new thrum of heartbeats. Pathways along the walls lit sequentially, guiding them to a final corridor.
Shin looked back at the mural once more. The central star pulsed twice, then dimmed. As he turned away, he sensed a faint smile in the silence, as though the city herself approved.
They emerged into blinding daylight at the far side of Orahm, atop a cliff that overlooked the endless sea of dunes. A breeze carried the trill of distant wind chimes—glass leaves shaking in unseen branches. Behind them, the hidden city shimmered, half‑dissolved against the horizon like a mirage.
Shin inhaled deeply, the dawnfire within him syncing with the desert sun. For the moment, his burdens felt lighter, not gone, but buoyed by trust and belonging.
Zera stepped to his side, hand resting gently on his shoulder. "You hide the weight well, Light‑Born."
He chuckled softly. "But not from you."
She squeezed once. "Never."
Laverna joined them, her gaze drifting over the dunes. "We have what we came for?"
"Not yet the relic," Shin said, "but the trail."
Maika shielded her eyes, scanning the shimmering horizon. "And the city sleeps again?"
Tessara shook her head. "It waits. For when the seventh star joins the fox."
Shin's heart stuttered at that. He felt the weight of hidden prophecy shift again, a puzzle box with one piece still missing. Yet amid the uncertainty stood his companions, each resolute.
Below the cliff, wind-carved patterns in sand that sparkled silver. And somewhere beyond, at the edge of vision, a lone silhouette watched—a promise that unseen forces still guided their path.
They began the trek back through Orahm's heart, mindful of traps newly silenced. With each step, the dawnfire pulsed brighter in Shin's chest.
For the first time since the Obsidian Dunes swallowed their footprints, hope sang louder than fear.