Once crisp, the fragments of parchment map now lay sodden with sweat and curling at the edges—every line blurred by the moisture of their exertion.
Raine's fingers moved over the wrinkles in vain, but his gaze drifted to the figure beside him, concern tugging at his thoughts.
Thalia's steps were unsteady; she seemed to lean on the jagged rock walls just to keep herself upright.
Her face was ashen as volcanic ash, and each breath came with a delicate tremor.
That supposedly "ancient ward" had exacted a toll far greater than any simple charm should.
"Here," Thalia croaked, voice hoarse with undeniable fatigue, pointing toward a twisted fissure in the rock to their left.
Karrion mumbled as he squinted at the blurred lines of the fragmentary map.
"Hope your witchcraft intuition is better than my dwarven sense of direction," he grumbled.
The air grew oppressively hot, heavy with the acrid sting of sulfur.
It felt as though they trod within the gullet of a slumbering, fire-breathing giant.
Beneath their feet lay no more mire but cracked, warm volcanic rock, veins of fissures hissing with escaping steam.
The surrounding stone had warped into unsettling spirals and spikes, as if kneaded by some unseen, titanic hand.
Light was sparse: a distant crimson glow from the volcano's mouth and the faint phosphorescence of heated stone offered only a tenuous illumination.
"Energy… so potent," Thalia whispered, voice sinking. "The veins of the earth… converge right here."
She halted, swaying on the volcanic floor.
Raine instinctively grasped her arm; her skin was ice-cold against the furnace-like heat around them, an uncanny contrast.
"Can you hold on?" he asked softly.
Thalia offered no reply, gently freeing her arm. Her gaze was fixed on a towering bank of volcanic ash ahead.
Beyond the ash, she could just make out crystalline formations gleaming faintly.
"That… must be it," she murmured.
Karrion bounded forward, hacking through the ash with his axe.
A blistering gust roared behind him, redolent of sulfur and molten metal, whipping his beard back in fiery waves.
Where the ash and crystals parted, a modest cavern entrance yawned into view.
The rock at its rim gleamed like obsidian glass, forged by countless heats.
Pulses of heat billowed out like living things, and deeper within the cavern, ominous red glows danced in the darkness.
"Ha!" Karrion's eyes sparkled, his weariness and complaints vanishing. "We've found it—the Geomantic Forge!"
He plunged in eagerly, dwarven robust form squeezed through the narrow opening.
Raine glanced at Thalia; her lips were set in a tighter line than before.
"Stay close," he urged briefly, following her through the fissure.
Thalia cast one last glance at the shadowed, contorted rocks behind them, sensing the specter of pursuit, then slipped into the cavern's maw.
Inside, the cavern opened into a vast, cathedral-like space.
It was an enormity beyond imagination—a natural hall hewn by fire and stone.
Colossal lava conduits, like dragon-bone arches, converged and twisted overhead before pouring into the churning magma lake below.
The magma's infernal glow bathed everything in scarlet; the heated air shimmered, and every breath scorched as if inhaling living flame.
At the cavern's heart floated a colossal, flat stone platform—nature's work of tectonic pressure and cooling magma.
A hundred feet below, the lava flowed languidly, exuding an aura of pure ruin.
Power swelled in the air like thunderous waves.
It was Earth's unbridled might: feral, primordial, untamed.
In its presence, Raine's star-blood felt a skiff on a maelstrom—insignificant and fragile.
Yet amid that savage force, he detected a faint glimmer of something pure—starlight.
Starshine.
So tenuous it resembled a dying spark in the wind, yet it endured—strangely woven with the geomantic energies.
"Perfect!" Karrion exulted from the platform's edge, arms spread wide, soaking in the searing gusts and raw power. "A forge tailor-made for the Starfire Blade!"
His voice echoed off the stone vaults, ringing like hammered steel.
"The geo-energy here pulses strongly, yet it lacks the volcanic core's utter chaos."
"And…" he took a steadying breath, feeling the star-aura's faint pulse. "A remnant of stellar power lingers—enough to be the crucible's spark, resonating with your bloodline!"
He pivoted, excitement giving way to solemn resolve.
"All right, boy, witch—no time for scenery."
From his massive pack, he pulled a host of arcane tools.
Rune-engraving chisels, energy conduits, cooling nozzles—and several ingots of alloy that glinted oddly, along with vials of strange reagents salvaged from the ruined archives.
He set to work around the platform's rim, testing the rock's stability and gauging the currents of power swirling about.
His actions were precise and efficient, every movement bearing the hallmark of dwarven craftsmanship.
With a sprinkling of ash-white powder, he began inscribing intricate runic patterns upon the stone.
The lines flowed like living script, ancient with latent power.
As the circle neared completion, the surrounding raw energies moderated, converging toward the platform's heart in rhythmic pulses.
Raine and Thalia watched in quiet awe.
The blistering heat and thrumming force pressed on their nerves like a vise.
Raine felt the backlash of his star-magic roiling; each surge threatened to rip him apart from the inside.
Thalia fared worse—leaning on a stalagmite, her face cloaked in shadow, her knuckles white with effort.
At last, Karrion laid down his chisel; the runes glowed faintly, nearly complete.
He strode to Raine and Thalia, weariness etched into his features like fresh scars.
"Boy, witch—I'll say it once more," he rumbled gravely. "This ritual is perilous."
He gestured toward the runic core at the platform's center.
"It demands your Starblood, Raine—not a trickle but enough to suffuse the runes themselves."
"Your blood will spark the geomantic currents, resonate with that faint starlight, and fuse into the blade's forging."
"The process will be excruciating," Karrion said, locking eyes with Raine. "You'll feel your strength drain away, soul seared as though cast into the magma below."
"And once it begins, the surging power will blaze like a beacon in the dark, drawing any creature attuned to energy."
He nodded toward the cavern's mouth.
"Corrupted beasts—those twisted by shadow—will flock here as sharks to blood, drawn by the pure yet violent power."
"Not to mention"—he glanced at the roiling lava rims and pulsing earth currents—"the very forge's power is volatile. The ritual could erupt into an energy storm: lava surges, cave-ins—anything could happen."
He paused, voice weighted even further.
"Once we begin, my full focus must be on the forge—no distractions. And you, Raine, after bleeding out, you'll be so weak you may slip into unconsciousness."
His gaze shifted to Thalia.
"Thus, the burden of guarding the rite falls largely to you, witch. And you, Raine, must steel your will to recover just enough strength to stand."
"The three of us must give everything to defend this platform until the Starfire Blade is born."
"One slip, one distraction, and the ritual could falter—or all three of us be reduced to charcoal in the magma."
His words reverberated in the blistering air, each syllable laden with dire gravity.
Only the cavern's low roar of lava and the hiss of raw energy remained.
Raine gazed at the glowing runes, feeling the cavern's savage force and that precious star-aura.
He recalled his sister's phantom voice, his family's vendetta, and Thalia's near-translucent pallor.
He clenched his fist.
"I'm ready," he said quietly but with absolute clarity.
Thalia lifted her head; beneath her hood, her eyes were a maelstrom of concern, resolve, and a sorrow Raine could not fully fathom.
She nodded faintly, speaking volumes in her silence.
Karrion regarded them, let out a grunt that served as a nod of approval.
"All right! Let's begin!" he barked.
He turned to the forge and hefted his rune-hammer.
The final preparations commenced.
The tension in the air was like a drawn bow, every fiber ready to snap.
Deep within the Geomantic Forge, the wheels of fate began to turn.