Arc 1 Chapter 5: Into the Canyon

The thunder of Aurelia’s hooves echoed off the canyon walls, mingling with the guttural snarls of the two hellhounds closing in behind them. Irelia kept her gaze locked ahead, scanning the twisting, narrow path and jagged cliffs. Every nerve in her body was taut, her mind racing to finalize her plan.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” Pip’s voice was high-pitched with panic, his knuckles white as he clung to the saddle.

“Enough to know we need to keep moving,” Irelia shot back, her tone clipped but steady.

A sudden snarl erupted from behind them. Irelia glanced back, spotting the glowing red eyes of the hellhounds gaining ground. Her stomach twisted. The third one, the one she had injured earlier, was still out of sight, which unnerved her. It was waiting for its moment, she was sure of it.

The canyon’s narrow walls loomed closer, casting deep shadows over the trio. Irelia reached into her pouch, pulling out a set of runestones and tossing them to Pip. “You’re going to help me set a trap,” she said.

“Trap?” Pip looked at the glowing stones in his hands as if they were about to explode. “I don’t know how to use these!”

“You don’t have to,” Irelia replied sharply. “Place them where I tell you. Quick, while we ride!”

Pip groaned but nodded, fumbling to hold the runestones as Aurelia thundered down the path. His hands trembled as he reached out to place one on a nearby outcrop. At the last second, he hesitated, his fear getting the better of him. The stone slipped from his grasp, bouncing once on the rocky ground.

One of the hellhounds seized the opportunity, lunging toward them. Irelia snarled a curse, her hand snapping up as a blast of frost magic erupted from her palm, striking the creature mid-leap and sending it crashing back.

"Pip!" she barked, her voice razor-sharp. "FOCUS!"

"I—I got it!" Pip stammered, his face pale but determined. He fumbled to retrieve the runestone and set it in place. The magic activated, its faint hum merging with the first rune’s glow.

A moment later, Pip seemed to rally. Reaching into his belt, he pulled out his slingshot.

“What are you doing?”

As the second hellhound closed in, he loaded a small pouch filled with caltrops and fired, the spiked metal scattering across the canyon floor. The hellhound snarled as it skidded, its claws scraping against the stones.

Pip gave a nervous grin. "Improvising! Is it helping?" he called over his shoulder.

"Just don’t stop!" Irelia barked, her tone a mix of exasperation and grudging approval.

As they neared the canyon’s midpoint, the third hellhound appeared. It leaped from the canyon wall, its massive form descending with terrifying speed. Irelia barely managed to cast a protective wind shield, deflecting its attack. The impact shook the ground, dislodging rocks from above. Aurelia stumbled but regained her footing, her elven breeding showing in her remarkable agility.

“This is insane!” Pip yelled, his voice cracking. “We’re going to die here!”

“Not if you keep placing those runestones!” Irelia shot back, though her tone lacked its usual sharpness. She couldn’t blame him for being terrified.

One of the hellhounds pounced, landing just behind them. Irelia swung her arm back, summoning a burst of frost that froze the creature’s front legs, causing it to stumble. But the spell left her panting, her reserves dangerously low.

The final runestone was set, glowing brighter than the others as the magic linked together. Irelia spurred Aurelia forward, her mind shifting to the next step. She reached for one of her daggers, whispering the activation word for the wind rune etched along its blade.

“Hold on tight,” she warned Pip, who immediately tightened his grip on the saddle. With a flick of her wrist, she hurled the dagger forward. The wind rune flared, propelling it far ahead of them. It embedded itself in a rock at the canyon’s exit, its teleportation rune shimmering faintly.

Behind them, the first hellhound reached the runestones. The magic activated in a blinding flash, sending a shockwave through the canyon. The creature howled in rage as the ground beneath it began to crumble. The second hellhound lunged to avoid the trap but was caught as the stones exploded, sending boulders and debris crashing down.

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“Now!” Irelia shouted. She activated the teleportation rune on her dagger, the magic enveloping her, Pip, and Aurelia in a flash of light. They vanished just as the canyon walls collapsed, the sound of destruction echoing behind them.

Irelia, Pip, and Aurelia reappeared at the canyon’s exit, the sudden shift in space leaving them momentarily disoriented. Aurelia skidded slightly as she regained her footing, and Pip wasted no time sliding off the saddle, collapsing onto the ground with a breathless groan.

“That was…” he wheezed, still clutching the earth beneath him. “I don’t even have words for what that was.”

Irelia dismounted more carefully, though her legs felt like lead beneath her. She took a staggering step before leaning heavily against a nearby rock, her breaths coming in shallow, ragged draws. The teleportation, coupled with the relentless drain of her magic, had pushed her to the brink.

Her eyes fluttered closed for just a moment. The weight of what had just happened pressed against her chest, heavy and suffocating. The image of the collapsing canyon flickered in her mind—the relentless pursuit, the fire-bright eyes of the hellhounds, the suffocating knowledge that they had been seconds away from death.

For once, she allowed herself to feel the fear she had buried beneath sheer will.

The truth, unspoken even to herself, whispered in the back of her mind.

She couldn’t let herself die.

It wasn’t just survival instinct—it was spite. Dying would mean proving her family right, validating every word they’d said about her being worthless. Dead people can’t accomplish anything. Dead people can’t defy expectations.

Staying alive, no matter how overwhelming the odds, was her ultimate rebellion. A refusal to let their scorn shape her fate.

With a quiet inhale, she forced her eyes open, the flicker of vulnerability buried beneath renewed resolve.

Pip, still sprawled on the ground, looked up at her, concern evident in his wide hazel eyes. “Are you okay? You don’t look okay.”

“I’m fine,” Irelia lied, though her pale face and unsteady hands betrayed her. Without missing a beat, she reached into her pouch, fingers curling around a small glass vial. The mana regeneration potion.

She hesitated. She knew the risks. The burst of magic would return—but the strain on her body would remain.

Still, she tipped the vial back and swallowed its contents in one motion. A faint glow pulsed through her veins as her depleted mana stores replenished, but the ache in her bones remained, a reminder of just how far she had pushed herself.

Pip frowned, watching her carefully. “That stuff… it’s dangerous, isn’t it?”

“Only if I’m stupid about it,” she replied curtly, slipping the empty vial back into her pouch. “And I don’t plan to be.”

As the dust settled, an eerie silence swallowed the canyon. Irelia cast a wary glance back at the wreckage, her instincts prickling with unease. The hellhounds were buried beneath the rubble, yet something felt wrong. The air was too still, too heavy—like the moment before a storm.

Her body refused to relax, every muscle coiled with tension, as if danger still lurked just beyond sight.

“This isn’t over,” she said softly, more to herself than to Pip.

Pip followed her gaze, his voice hesitant. “Do you think… they’ll come back?”

“Maybe,” Irelia admitted. She straightened, her expression hardening. “But if they do, we’ll be ready.”

Unbeknownst to them, a shadowy figure watched from the treeline. Irelia paused mid-step, a strange sensation creeping over her. It felt as though unseen eyes were boring into her, sending a shiver down her spine. She turned sharply, her emerald-green eyes scanning the trees behind them, but there was nothing—just the swaying branches and the distant rustle of leaves.

"What is it?" Pip asked nervously, glancing in the same direction.

Irelia shook her head, forcing herself to relax. "Nothing," she said, though her voice lacked conviction. "Just paranoia."

The shadowy figure remained concealed, their presence expertly masked. Only a fleeting glint of amber eyes pierced the darkness before vanishing into the depths of the forest, leaving no trace behind.

Yet, the air still carried a faint, acrid scent of sulfur, clinging stubbornly despite the canyon’s collapse. Irelia caught it as she turned away, her unease deepening. A silent warning rang in her mind—this wasn’t over. Whatever force had unleashed the hellhounds into the mortal realm was far from finished. She could feel it.

Pip, still shaky, attempted a grin. “Well, we survived. That’s… something.”

Irelia glanced at him, her expression softening for a moment. “Surviving is always something.” She patted Aurelia’s neck, the mare snorting as if in agreement. “But surviving isn’t the same as winning.”

For a fleeting moment, the wind carried a distant, guttural growl, barely audible. Irelia froze, her hand instinctively gripping her blade. She narrowed her eyes, scanning the treeline, but the sound didn’t return.

Still, the unease remained.

“Let’s move,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “The ruins are waiting.”