Vaelora's starmetal blade sliced through the midnight air, severing the silver-haired Siren's outstretched talons just inches from Azeal's throat. The creature shrieked, a grating, unholy sound that broke the harmony of the song for a fraction of a second.
But the other Sirens did not stop singing.
To Vaelora's horror, a massive, dark-scaled Siren lunged from the shadows, wrapping her powerful, clawed arms around Captain Gideon. The Drazhin captain, still trapped in a glassy-eyed haze, did not fight back. He smiled blankly as the monster dragged him backward over the rocky ledge, plunging into the deep, churning waters of the island's interior pool. A heavy splash echoed through the ravine, and Gideon vanished beneath the dark foam. He was gone.
"Azeal! Look at me!" Vaelora yelled, but Azeal's boots were already moving, stepping closer to the remaining monsters.
Realizing words were useless against the ancient magic, Vaelora dropped her left dagger. She grabbed Azeal by his wrist, forcing his arm down. With a swift, desperate motion, she drew the razor-sharp edge of her remaining Midnight Dagger across the back of his hand.
Blood—bright, warm, and mortal—welled from the shallow cut.
The sharp, sudden sting of physical pain shot through Azeal's nervous system, shattering the hypnotic fog in his mind. He gasped violently, his eyes snapping back to life as the dull glaze disappeared.
"Vaelora? What—"
Before he could even process the wound or the blood, Vaelora slammed her hands over his ears, pressing down with all her strength. "Don't listen! Block it out!" she commanded fiercely. "Gideon is gone, the soldiers are dead! We have to run, now!"
Azeal looked past her shoulder, seeing the horrific, blood-stained fangs of the Sirens rushing toward them. The reality of the slaughter crashed down on him. He nodded quickly, keeping his own hands pressed firmly over his ears to seal out the deadly melody, while Vaelora grabbed his bloodied hand.
Turning away from the blood-soaked ravine, Vaelora dragged him toward the only path left—a steep, rocky incline that led upward into the island's higher peaks.
They ran blindly, their boots scrambling for purchase on the loose shale. It was a bright, moonlit night, and as they ascended higher, the thick, suffocating mist of the jungle began to thin out. Up here, on the elevated ridges of the island, the bright moonlight washed over the landscape, leaving very few shadows for the monsters to hide in. The distance dulls the Sirens' voices, the wind carrying the deadly song away into the open ocean.
Pantingly, Azeal finally lowered his hands, his breathing ragged. He looked back down at the dark, twisted forest below. "They're all gone... Gideon... everyone..."
"We can't mourn them now, Azeal. If we stay, we join them," Vaelora said, her voice steady but tight with adrenaline. She checked the straps of her pack, ensuring the Book of Origins was still secure. "Look ahead. We need to find a way off this rock."
The rocky path suddenly gave way to a hidden, high-altitude plateau. Unlike the jagged, bleeding trees of the lower jungle, this place was lush, covered in thick, silver-tinted grass that glowed under the midnight moon.
And there, in the center of the moonlit meadow, stood a creature of myth.
It had the powerful, magnificent build of a stallion, its coat pure, blinding white, unblemished by the grime of the lower world. But stretching from its shoulders were two colossal, feathered wings that rustled softly in the night breeze.
It was a Pegasus.
The wild, celestial stallion was quietly grazing on the silver grass, its ears twitching as it caught the sound of their approaching footsteps. It lifted its head, its intelligent, golden eyes locking onto the two exhausted travelers who had just escaped the jaws of death.