Sonder's flame flickered as she scanned the scattered remains. The bones weren't fresh, but they hadn't turned to dust either. Someone had been here before them—unsuccessfully.
"We should move," the knight said. "If we stay here too long, we might join them."
No one argued. Sonder took the lead, flame extended, guiding them deeper into the tower's underbelly.
The corridors shifted between smooth, arcane etchings and crude, unfinished stone. This place was still under construction—patchwork walls, gaps in its design.
Ahead, a door loomed. Heavy. Iron-bound. The handle was missing, but faint runes pulsed along its edges, sensing their presence.
Without a touch, it unlocked.
"That's never a good sign," Vell muttered.
They had no other path forward. The moment they stepped inside, the door slammed shut behind them.
A hiss echoed through the chamber.
Strange mist poured from the walls.
"It's a trap room," Vell coughed.
"Poison." The knight's voice was tight, controlled.
The squire wheezed, already paling. "That's—bad."
Vell went to the far door, but before he could act, it sealed with a deep, grinding noise.
"Mh. Either Griffonage can bypass this room and control the poison flow, or he never comes in at all—leaving it as just another trap."
Sonder looked around, desperate for anything useful. The room was cluttered, tables overflowing with glass vials, dried herbs, crushed minerals, and half-mixed concoctions. Shelves lined the walls, filled with more ingredients, some labeled in old runic script, others left unmarked.
It was an alchemy lab.
"I have an idea."
Vell wiped his sleeve across his watering eyes. "An idea?"
The knight had already wrapped part of his cloak around his mouth, eyes watering. "Pale Lady, if you have a solution, now is the time."
Sonder grabbed a mortar and pestle. "I can make something. Just stall."
"Stall who?" Vell gestured at the empty room. "The air?"
"Just—don't breathe too much."
The gas thickened. The squire wobbled and braced against the table.
Sonder worked fast. A general anti-poison needed bellroot, emberleaf, frostbloom, and water. She scanned the shelves—no sign of them.
She searched frantically.
Vell tapped her shoulder. When she turned, he handed her the missing ingredients he had found.
He already had a suspicion of what her plan was.
She crushed them into a fine paste, infusing it with what little mana she had left. The mixture darkened, then lightened, pulsing faintly.
The knight's grip tightened on the table. It cracked beneath his fingers.
Though the poison affected her less than it did the knight and squire—likely due to her undead nature—exhaustion from her heavy mana use left her in little better shape.
Sonder poured water into a flask, scraped the paste in, and shook it hard. A sharp, bitter scent filled the air as the liquid turned pale gold.
She pressed the flask into the knight's hands. "Drink."
He didn't hesitate. His breathing steadied almost instantly. She forced the squire to sip next, watching as his color returned.
When she turned to Vell, he refused it. "Only enough for three. You drink."
She hesitated. His expression didn't allow room for argument.
"Besides," he added, grimacing, "it tastes vile."
She drank the rest, wiping her brow. The poison still hung in the air, but the burning in their lungs was gone.
Minutes passed. The mist slowly thinned, flowing outward to clear the room, like it was timed.
Then—
A click.
The far door unlocked.
The knight exhaled. "Let's not linger."