Page 24

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T he rainforest began to thin, the blanket of the canopy yielding to a brilliant stretch of blue sky. A cool breeze drifted through the clearing, a welcome guest after hours of trekking.

“We’re close,” Vivienne murmured, eyes locked on the tree line ahead, where towering trees and vines concealed the stone structures. “It’s right around here.”

Captain Garrett gave a sharp nod. “Stay alert. We don’t know what we’re walking into. Weapons ready.”

The crew shifted at his command, gripping swords, knives, and makeshift spears. As Vivienne stepped past the final barrier of trees, she swallowed air, her throat tight. Ancient ruins stretched before them. Crumbling walls, fallen pillars, and archways that once stood tall, all half-swallowed by the rainforest. Thick vines snaked up the structures, their roots wrapping around the stones as if the rainforest itself refused to let the past remain untouched.

She stood frozen, jaw slack, heart pounding. I’m here. I’m actually here. A grin broke across her face, her eyes stinging with emotion.

Lewis let out a low whistle. “Well, I’ll be damned. You weren’t kidding.”

“No,” Vivienne whispered, stepping forward. She knelt beside a wall, fingers tracing a weathered carving. “Look at this. The details... This place must be centuries old.”

Commander Thorne’s voice was firm, delivering orders. “Spread out. Secure the perimeter. No one touches anything until we know what we’re dealing with.”

The crew moved with caution, their unease palpable. Cirrus was already sketching the ruins on the map with singular. Vivienne turned to speak to him, but he walked off without a word, still simmering from their earlier conversation. She clenched her jaw, exhaling through her nose before shifting her attention to Lewis.

“We need to go in,” she said, pointing to the antiquated stones. “Standing out here won’t give us the answers we need.”

A shout cleaved the air.

“Captain! Over here!”

All eyes followed the crewman's outstretched arm. Beyond the outer wall, barely concealed by tangled foliage, lay a field of bones. Human remains—scattered, half-buried in earth, stripped clean. Darkened.

Vivienne’s stomach clenched. Could they be my parents? Another expedition? Something much older?

Captain Garrett’s voice was strained. “There must be… hundreds.”

Dr. Mercer stepped forward, kneeling by the remains. “There are at least fifty skulls in just this area, but no complete skeletons. Likely the result of scavengers. The exposed bones show advanced erosion, but those buried are the same strange black.”

Garrett exhaled. “Cause of death?”

Dr. Mercer ran her fingertips over a jagged notch in the bone. “Defensive wounds… sword slashes.” She pressed her lips together. “Then fire.”

The revelation pulled the air from the crew’s lungs.

One sailor inched forward. “Doctor… were they still alive when?—”

“It’s difficult to say.” She stood, smoothing her long braids over her shoulders. “But given the grouping, they were at least incapacitated before the fire consumed them.”

The captain removed his hat, his mouth set in a grim line. “How long ago?”

Dr. Mercer’s answer landed like a hammer. “Twenty to thirty years.”

Lewis paled. “That’s not possible.”

Commander Thorne turned, his eyes narrowed. “Explain.”

“The botany doesn’t match,” Lewis said, voice tight. “There’s no fire damage to the surrounding plants, and the youngest bordering trees are at least fifty years old. How does a blaze large enough to burn dozens of people leave the foliage untouched?”

Commander Thorne knelt, rubbing silvery dust between his fingers. “Cinderbind.”

Vivienne’s inhale snagged. The powder matched the contents of Florence’s bottle.

“Which means,” Thorne said, his voice a low growl, “whoever did this used everburn.”

The realization clicked into place.

A weighted hush fell. Vivienne swallowed against the knot in her throat. Gods. Please let them have been dead before the flames took them.

Captain Garrett bowed his head. “Crew, a moment of reverence. May they return to the embrace of the eternal glade.”

Around her, the sailors removed their hats, murmuring prayers in hushed voices. Several arranged their arms and hands into the different prayer postures of their heritage lands. Vivienne vacillated, then reached for Lewis’ hand on one side and Commander Thorne’s on the other, in the prayer customs of Fendwyr, tipping her face toward the sky.

* * *

As the sun dipped low, Captain Garrett called for camp to be made within the ruins. There was no chance of making the seven-hour trek back before nightfall.

Vivienne and Lewis had spent hours exploring, while Cirrus, still avoiding her, charted the ruins’ layout. The heart of the site was a vast courtyard, flagstones cracked and overtaken by moss. Surrounding structures, once homes or shops, had long since crumbled, their skeletal remains open to the sky. But the carvings were what captivated her, etched into walls, broken pillars, and shattered statues. Some were too worn to decipher, but others held enough detail to spark her imagination.

The central tower stood tall above them, its stonework eerily untouched by time. Vivienne’s pulse quickened. “Lewis!” she called. “Let’s go in there”

As they crossed the courtyard, a faint crackling sound halted them.

“Where is that coming from?” Vivienne whispered.

Lewis grinned. “ Tendrilis serpens . We studied them on the ship. They’re the fast-growing vines.”

They approached a wall thick with dark green tendrils, their broad leaves and sharp thorns crawling upward at a visible pace. The vines crackled as they spread, growing a sixteenth of an inch every minute.

“If we’d arrived a few years later, the ruins might have been completely hidden,” Vivienne murmured.

“Better this than Mortivora arbori ,” Lewis muttered.

Vivienne shuddered. “The one that looks like a large Venus flytrap?”

“The same,” he confirmed. “The field sketches alone are nightmare fuel. I’d rather not see one in person.”

Leaving the vines behind, they stepped through the arched doorway of the tower. The air inside congealed with dust and the scent of damp stone, the only light filtering through narrow windows.

As her eyes adjusted, Vivienne froze. Every inch of the smooth stone walls was covered in carvings. She traced the ancient etchings with her fingertips, awe humming in her chest.

“What do you think this place was?” Lewis asked, hushed.

“A temple, maybe,” Vivienne whispered. “Or something else entirely. This civilization was far more advanced than we thought.”

Moving around the circular chamber, they studied the carvings. The lowest panels depicted a thriving society, figures harvesting crops, using plants for medicine, and worshipping beneath a full moon. Animals she didn’t recognize roamed the scenes. And at the center of many, an unmistakable goddess.

Vivienne squinted. “Elandra.”

Lewis nodded. “She’s in every Harvest Moon Festival statue.”

“We share a deity,” Vivienne mused, her fingers following the vines and leaves wrapping around Elandra’s arms.

Near the back of the chamber, four carvings stood out. They were less weathered and their lines much sharper.

“These look newer,” she murmured.

Lewis compared them to the others. “Less moss and water damage, too.”

The first depicted a large, leafless tree with people running toward it. The next showed the island’s tiered waterfalls. Another showed the goddess Elandra crying over Verdance. The last of the newer carvings showed a strange combination of the moon, an owl, and a flower.

Vivienne pulled parchment and charcoal from her pack. “Help me get tracings”

They worked quickly, pressing parchment against the stone and rubbing charcoal over the engravings, capturing the images before night overcame the tower.

By the time they rolled the imprints into her pack, darkness had settled over the ruins. Shouldering their supplies, they turned toward the glow of the campfires, the thrill of discovery swelling in their chests.

* * *

As the crew stirred from their makeshift camp, Vivienne was already awake, her mind restless with the mysteries of the ruins.

Nearby, Captain Garrett spoke in hushed but firm tones to Commander Thorne. “I want small teams canvassing the area. Note anything unusual, any remains, anything at all.”

Thorne gave a sharp nod and began issuing orders. Lewis, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, grabbed his supplies and joined Vivienne.

“We should go back to the central tower,” she suggested, eyes locked on its formidable silhouette. “There are so many carvings to study.”

Lewis yawned. “Agreed, but—” He tensed, head snapping toward the tree line. “Viv, do you hear that?”

Heavy boots crunched through the underbrush. Shadows emerged from the dense foliage, figures moving with calculated menace.

“Enyo,” Garrett muttered, his expression hardening as his hand drifted to his sword. He didn’t draw it, yet.

Vivienne felt her breathing turn shallow as Captain Enyo stepped forward, his wiry frame oozing confidence. He strolled toward them like a man who knew he held the upper hand. His crew, rough and armed to the teeth, fanned out, cutting off any escape.

Cirrus appeared at Vivienne’s side, stepping in front of her with his cutlass drawn. Sunlight glinted off the curved blade.

“Garrett,” Enyo drawled, his gravelly voice shrouded in contempt. “How nice of you to join us.”

“We don’t want any trouble, Enyo,” Garrett said, his tone low and even.

Enyo flashed a mocking grin, his silver tooth catching the light. “Trouble? No, of course not. Just two crews, stranded on an island, racing against time to find a mystical tribute. What trouble could we possibly get into?”

Vivienne frowned. She scanned Enyo’s men. Only twenty? There had to be more. Her heart fell into her stomach. Where are the rest?

“We’re not racing against you,” Garrett countered. “We’re completing our assignment.”

“Assignment?” Enyo scoffed, his voice scraping like stone. “The King called it a competition. Didn’t he, Miss Banner?” His gaze flicked past Cirrus, locking onto her. “Nice guard dog, by the way.”

Vivienne inhaled to respond, but Thorne stepped in.

“If this is a competition,” the commander said coolly, “then may the best and most honorable crew succeed.”

Enyo let out a dry chuckle. “Thorne, isn’t it? I remember you. Funny you would mention honor?—”

Cirrus cut in, impatient. “What do you want, Enyo? We know this isn’t a social call.”

Enyo sneered. “Shut up, pretty boy.” He stalked closer.

Cirrus grabbed Vivienne’s wrist, pulling her fully behind him.

Enyo studied the Zephyrus crew members, the scar on his face twisting as his sneer spread into a predatory shape. “Captain Garrett, funny how quickly things change out here…”

A cold unease trickled through Vivienne.

“One moment, you think you’ve got everything under control,” Enyo continued, glancing east. “Your crew safe at camp. And the next…” He shrugged. “Well. Circumstances change.”

Garrett’s jaw tightened. “What are you getting at?”

“Oh, nothing.” Enyo’s voice became casual. “Just thinking about how unpredictable this island is. The rainforest. The creatures. The people. Hard to say who’s safe… and who’s not.”

A threat. A warning. Vivienne met Lewis’ eyes, dread mirrored in his gaze.

Enyo saw their exchange and chuckled darkly. “But don’t worry,” he murmured, stepping closer. “I’m sure whatever you left behind… will still be there when you return.”

Then he turned, his crew vanishing back into the mist like ghosts.

Captain Garrett exhaled, slow and controlled. Then, with the weight of command, he turned to the crew.

“We move. Now.”