Riko picked up the adventurer's journal, her hands trembling slightly as she held the bloodstained, water-warped leather. The faded gold leaf on the cover depicted a charging gryphon, the sigil of a well-known adventuring company. She passed it to Finn. He opened it to a random page, his expression hardening into a mask of grim understanding as he read the last, frantic, ink-smeared entry. He then silently showed it to the rest of the party.
The giddy, triumphant excitement that had filled the cavern moments before evaporated as if it had never existed, replaced by a cold, heavy, suffocating silence. The glittering mountains of gold suddenly seemed obscene, the masterwork armor felt like gravestones, and the enchanted weapons hummed with a sorrowful, ghostly energy.
Lyra, who had been gleefully assessing the value of a jeweled dagger, let it clatter from her numb fingers. Noel, who had been lovingly polishing a piece of Aegis Ore, dropped it as if it had suddenly become red-hot. Kaelenâs grip on the war axe heâd found tightened, his knuckles white, his usual friendly face now a thunderous scowl.
Lyra walked over, her usual cheerful energy completely gone, her steps slow and heavy. "This stuff is too valuable to just leave here," she said, her voice a low mix of practical concern and deep, profound sadness. Her eyes drifted over the hoard, no longer seeing treasure, but the last remnants of shattered livesâa blood-stained short sword, a helmet with a massive, skull-sized dent in its side, a masterwork wizard's staff that had been snapped cleanly in two. She looked at Riko, at her pale, horrified face, and put a firm, grounding hand on her shoulder. "Let's make a grave for them. It's the least we can do for⦠for borrowing their things."
Riko looked at Lyra, then back at the scattered belongings of the dead, her own heart a tangled mess of conflict. To her Kokugan, the cavern was a screaming vortex of residual emotional energy. The faint, tragic outlines of the dead clung to their former possessions, a silent testament to their final, terrifying moments. To take these items felt like a desecration, a grave robbery of the highest order. But Lyra was right. To leave them here, in this monster's larder, to be discovered and greedily snatched up by the next party of adventurers, felt just as wrong.
Noel and Finn moved closer, their own faces grim. Finn picked up an enchanted, silver bracelet from a pile, its gems glittering mockingly in the torchlight. "Lyra has a point. We canât leave it all. But it would be best if we only took what is absolutely essential," he said, his gaze meeting Riko's. He put his other hand on her shoulder, a gesture of quiet, unwavering support. "This is a heavy choice. It should be your call, Riko."
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It was a quiet but monumental moment. He wasn't asking for her opinion; he was ceding authority. He was acknowledging that in this moment of profound moral weight, her unique perception and her unshakable empathy made her the only one qualified to pass judgment.
She looked at the three of them, then at Kaelen and Lyra, and saw the same sad understanding in all their eyes. She took a deep, steadying breath, the weight of leadership settling upon her. She gave a firm, single nod. "Only what you need to survive and to honor them by putting it to good use," she commanded, her voice soft but now imbued with a new, heavy authority. "No more."
They moved through the hoard with a newfound reverence. It was no longer a treasure hunt; it was a solemn, respectful rite. Noel carefully, almost tenderly, placed the precious Aegis Ore into the bottomless bag, his mind no longer on the wondrous things he could create, but on the responsibility that now came with such a rare material. Kaelen found a pair of heavy, bronze-plated gauntlets, clearly made for a man of his immense stature. Etched into the metal of the knuckles was the name "Earthshakers." He slid them on, the fit perfect, and clenched his fists, a silent vow to their previous owner. Finn took the enchanted bracelet, its silver cool against his skin. Lyra, for her part, simply held the now-heavy bottomless bag, her face a mask of somber responsibility.
Riko's gaze fell on a small, protected chest filled with coins. Their goal was still to get a home, a base, and that required money. The irony was a bitter pill to swallow. She reached for a handful of Aurean, her fingers hesitating just above the cold, glittering gold. Her hand pulled back, then shot forward again, grabbing just five of the heavy coins and clenching them in her palm. A whisper, heavy with pain and regret, escaped her lips. "Maybe... if we had gotten here sooner..."
Lyra heard her, and immediately walked over, wrapping her in a tight, fierce hug. "Don't," she said softly, her voice full of an unshakeable conviction. "Don't do that to yourself. There's nothing we could have done. We can't go back in time. But we stopped the queen. We stopped more people from ending up like this. What we can do, we did."
Riko hugged her back, a single, hot tear tracing a path down her cheek. She finally let go and wiped her face, the warmth of her friend's words chasing away some of the cold, gnawing guilt. She faced the party, her expression resolute. "Let's go," she said, her voice still trembling slightly.
"Not yet," Lyra said, her own voice soft but firm. She gestured to the scattered, most personal effectsâthe journals, the dented helmets, the broken weapons. "We're not leaving them like this. Not in a monster's treasure pile." She looked at Riko, her eyes full of a fierce, sad determination. "We build a grave. We show them the respect they were denied."
Riko looked from the bloodstained journal in her hand to the earnest, waiting faces of her new family, and gave a solemn nod.
"You're right," she said. "Let's get to work."