Petrichor moves beyond the forge. He doesn’t even spare the room a second glance as he passes it. There were too many conflicting thoughts bouncing around in his head, and most of them delved deep into the morality of the actions done in these halls. Blinded by the sights of grandeur, he was blind to the other senses that screamed out the warning of danger. It bled with the bad intent performed here. Which side was right is screamingly unclear.

The mystery mare – a Reaper, they called her – had been nothing but kind even when she was disguised and walking amongst the common folk. In the many years since his parents’ passing, she had been a shoulder to lean on and her advice was invaluable. There had been no tell of misdeed.

Then again, this god that had been toppled had faced her and lost. What kind of power did she hold where she could overreach a god?

Most of the stories of the forge’s siblings were also lost in the kingdom’s collapse. Most of the pantheon itself removed itself from the mortals and instead sat back and watched to see what would happen. The temple’s walls held secret clues to who the other two may be. Whether it be another brother or sister, the truth would be kept hidden for some time still.

Riot did not linger as they walked out of the shadows of the temple, and it did not try to go greet the monsters that ran on the magma’s surface. It let Petrichor ponder in peace as if granting him time to decide where he stood. The only thing he knew for sure was where the hair on his back stood. Straight up.

The threat of danger did not leave the air nor would it ever. It felt like this entire layer of the dungeon had been frozen in time entirely.

‘I wish it were more black and white, the actions and consequences of decisions in the past. Nobody ever wants to down one they love. Be that as it may, he still did.’ Her voice penetrates the ambiance of popping lava. He listens carefully to the weaving melody of her tone. ‘Fear not, child, as his plight cannot touch you so long as I am here to chase it away.’

Like a soothing balm, the blaring alarms of an imminent threat are washed away. Riot circles him in dazzling light, and as the particles of its magic touch him, his heart’s aches are assuaged.

She had that way about her, that effortless method of bringing him ease. His days spent longingly staring at a path he never knew he’d walk were ended by her gentle words and guiding hand. When his nerves about entering the dungeon were made known, she sent him Riot to cast him from the dark. Now, when he needs his eyes opened to reality, she shares a painful story of moments past to help him understand.

This was no malicious creature. Not to him. If anything, she was a guardian who was trying to right the wrongs done to her and the people who might’ve once relied on her. So why was she guiding him deeper? What was the purpose of this tiring charade?

Now that he’d had some semblance of conversation with her, the reality of how truly alone he was settled in. In response, she hummed knowingly like she understood his pain.

‘There is nowhere you can go that I cannot follow. Call to me, and I will answer. You are not alone, my little warrior. No monster or deceitful beast can keep you from me.’

It did bring him much comfort to know such a seemingly powerful being held him in her favor. He wasn’t in true danger while she guided him. He can only hope he lives up to whatever expectations she has laid out for him.

“You promise?” His heart, so fragile from the absence of his parents, pleaded out to her. Her rush of comfort against him was instant.

‘I promise. All you must do is follow me…’

With that, he walks on, empowered by the shield that falls heavily around him like a safety net. If she needed him to, to keep such a wonder he'd been longing for, he would become a sword. The two would be safe in this hazardous land. He just needed to follow her voice and find her.