Reza's breath came in shallow gasps as she staggered forward, her bare feet scraping against the uneven black stones of Khal-Turaz. The air was thick, damp with the scent of minerals and the distant echo of dripping water. Shadows stretched long in the endless tunnels, each passage winding like the veins of some ancient beast.
She had lost all sense of time. Hours bled into eternity, the oppressive weight of the underground pressing upon her mind. Yet she moved forward, driven by one singular purpose—to find her companions.
And then, at last, she saw it. A faint glow ahead. Not the eerie bioluminescence of the deep, but the warm flicker of firelight.
Reza quickened her pace, her pulse hammering in her ears. When she stepped through the final narrow passage, the cavern opened before her—vast, sprawling, alive. The refuge of the Silver Axes Women.
The cavern was immense, stretching nearly half a mile in every direction, its domed ceiling arching high above like the ribcage of a long-dead titan. Jagged rock formations jutted from the ground, forming natural barriers that divided the space into sections—a sanctuary carved from the depths of Khal-Turaz.
A subterranean river cut through the heart of the cavern, its waters surprisingly clear, reflecting the dim glow of bioluminescent fungi that clung to the rocky walls. The river teemed with cavefish, pale salamanders, and freshwater crustaceans, providing a steady food source. The current was slow, pooling in several spots where the women had built makeshift fishing stations using woven reeds and sharpened bone hooks.
Along the riverbanks, thick clusters of mushrooms flourished—some edible, others used for medicinal purposes. Among them, glowcaps pulsed faintly with blue light, illuminating small sections of the cavern, while ironstalk fungi—tall, rigid, and fibrous—were harvested for crafting tools, ropes, and makeshift barriers.
To the eastern side of the cavern, natural hot springs bubbled up from beneath the rock, their mineral-rich waters providing warmth and a place to bathe. A few women sat on the edge, steam curling around them as they washed clothes in the shallows.
The shelters were built into the rock itself. Using scavenged wood, animal hides, and woven reeds, the women had constructed sturdy huts and lean-tos pressed against the cavern walls. Some of the deeper alcoves had been turned into storage spaces, filled with dried mushrooms, salted fish, and preserved roots wrapped in cloth.
Children's laughter echoed in the air. In a small clearing, a group of them—317 in total, a mix of infants, toddlers, and older children—played near a pile of soft furs. Their mothers watched from a distance, exhaustion heavy in their eyes but tempered by relief.
Nearby, over a thousand women—1,067 warriors, healers, and survivors—moved with purpose. Some sharpened weapons of bone and obsidian, while others tended to the wounded, stitching wounds with sinew and applying poultices made from cavern herbs.
At the cavern's northernmost end stood the leaders' enclave, where a cluster of battle-worn women gathered around a stone table, deep in discussion.
It was not luxury. It was not comfort. But it was safety. For now. Reza exhaled, her body trembling from exhaustion, from pain, from everything she had endured. She had made it back.
The cavern of Khal-Turaz had settled into a rare moment of peace. After the long, harrowing journey, the Silver Axes women and their children finally allowed themselves to rest. The soft glow of fungi flickered against the damp walls, casting ghostly shapes that danced with the shadows of the survivors.
Some of the women were busy crafting what they could to bring comfort to their cold, rocky refuge. Woven mats of dried reed and fungal fiber were being laid out as makeshift bedding, while others worked on sewing patchwork blankets from salvaged cloth and animal pelts. A few skilled hands twisted cave-root fibers into strong ropes, reinforcing their dwellings against the unpredictable shifts of the earth.
The murmur of whispered conversations and the quiet crackling of a small, controlled fire filled the cavern with a sense of normalcy—however fragile it was. But amid the warmth of survival, Reza felt something.
A sharp, twisting sensation gripped her lower abdomen, deep and sudden. Her breath hitched as her body tensed involuntarily. It was not pain, not yet—but a pressure, a presence.
She placed a trembling hand over her stomach, her fingers pressing lightly against her tunic. "What was that?"
A feverish wave of nausea crawled up her spine, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Sweat beaded along her brow despite the cool underground air.
"Reza?" A voice, warm yet firm, pulled her from her thoughts. She turned to see Hadeefa, one of the elder women, approaching with quiet concern in her sharp eyes.
Hadeefa had once been a healer in the upper lands, her knowledge of herbs and ailments rivaling even the scholars of the old kingdoms. Her bronzed skin bore the marks of age and war, deep scars cutting across her arms, but her presence was unwavering, a pillar of wisdom among the refugees.
She crouched beside Reza, her hands rough from years of labor yet gentle as she placed a palm against Reza's back.
"Are you alright, daughter?" Hadeefa asked, her voice low, careful not to draw attention.
Reza clenched her jaw, bowing her head as another subtle contraction rolled through her. But it faded just as quickly, leaving only a lingering discomfort.
She took a slow, steady breath. "I… I think I'm fine," she muttered, though uncertainty crept into her voice.
Hadeefa studied her for a long moment, her dark eyes scanning Reza's face, as if searching for something unspoken. Then, with a knowing sigh, she reached into the satchel slung over her shoulder and pulled out a small leather flask of herbal tonic.
"Drink," she instructed. "It will ease whatever unrest stirs within you."
Reza hesitated but accepted the flask, sipping the bitter liquid. The taste of earth and dried leaves coated her tongue, grounding her senses.
"Rest now," Hadeefa continued, standing. "You are strong, but even the strongest warriors must listen to their bodies."
Reza nodded, though doubt still lingered in her mind. But, as Hadeefa walked away, a final contraction pulsed faintly through her once more—soft, almost teasing.
Hours passed. The warmth of the fires dwindled, leaving only embers glowing like dying stars. Though the cavern knew no true day or night, the air had turned colder, a sign that darkness had fallen upon the lands above. The women of the Silver Axes had finally surrendered to sleep, their exhausted bodies curled beneath patchwork blankets, their children nestled against them. A rare moment of peace. Until, Reza's scream shattered it.
The sound was raw, primal—a wail of agony and terror. It echoed through the cavern, bouncing off the rock walls like the howling of a wounded beast.
Panic erupted. Women bolted upright, clutching weapons by instinct. Mothers pulled their children close, eyes wide with confusion and fear. The dim glow of fungi revealed Reza on the ground, her body convulsing, her fingers clawing at the stone.
Her abdomen had swollen grotesquely, stretching her skin taut as if something within her was pushing, writhing, forcing its way out. Then, the blood came.
Dark, thick as tar, it pooled beneath her, staining the cavern floor black in the faint light.
"Reza!" Hadeefa rushed forward, her healer's hands moving with urgency, but even she hesitated as she took in the horrifying sight.
Reza's face was twisted in agony, sweat-drenched hair clinging to her cheeks. Her breaths came in sharp, broken gasps, her lips trembling as she tried to form words—but only whimpers escaped.
The women gathered, whispering in fear. This was not natural. This was a curse. "Hold her down!" Hadeefa commanded.
Two warriors stepped forward, gripping Reza's shoulders as she thrashed violently, her body betraying her, convulsing as if something inside was fighting its way free.
Then, a sound—wet, gurgling. The cavern fell into a stunned silence as the unnatural child slid from Reza's womb, landing in the blood-soaked stone with a sickening squelch.
The baby was not human. Its skin was ashen-gray, its limbs too long, too thin. Tiny horns curled from its skull, and when it took its first breath, it did not cry—it laughed. A soft, unnerving chuckle that sent a chill through every woman present. Its eyes snapped open—pupil-less, glowing like embers.
Reza gasped, her body weak, her hands trembling as she tried to lift her head. Her hazy vision landed on the creature, and horror etched itself into her face.
Hadeefa, pale with disbelief, turned to Reza. Sadness and dread filled her eyes. "Reza…" her voice was barely a whisper. "What happened to you?"
Silence hung in the cavern like a heavy shroud. Reza trembled, her body wracked with exhaustion, but no sound came from her lips. Tears slipped down her cheeks, falling into the blood pooling beneath her. She did not sob, did not wail—her grief was deeper than that. It was silent. Hollow.
Hadeefa, still kneeling, carefully placed the unnatural child on the ground beside her. The cambion did not cry—it simply watched, its ember-like eyes flickering in the dim glow of the cave.
With steady hands, Hadeefa reached for Reza, pulling her weak, shaking form into her lap. She held her close, like a mother comforting a lost child.
Reza broke. Her fingers clutched at Hadeefa's tunic, her face pressed into her thigh. A silent storm of grief and regret consumed her. She felt like a child again, like a foolish girl who had made an unforgivable mistake.
Hadeefa stroked her hair gently, her touch both firm and understanding. "Shh… It's alright, daughter. Speak to me."
Reza shook her head, her breath unsteady. Hadeefa did not press her, only held her until the weight of silence became unbearable.
Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, Reza finally spoke. "I did it for all of you…"
Hadeefa stilled. "Tell me, child. What have you done?"
Reza's breath hitched, her nails digging into her own skin as the memories surged forward, raw and unrelenting. "I… I bargained with him."
A hush fell over the gathered women, those who had dared to stay and listen. Reza swallowed hard, forcing herself to continue. "Iblis. He… He had me beneath his knee. I begged him—begged him to spare us." Her voice cracked, her body shivering at the memory of his whisper against her ear. "He said it wasn't enough… so I gave him more."
Hadeefa's hands tensed. "Your soul?"
Reza laughed bitterly. "More than that."
The realization settled like a stone in Hadeefa's chest. She had known Reza was hiding something—but this…
Reza lifted her head slightly, her swollen eyes meeting Hadeefa's. "I let him take me," she admitted. "Not just my soul, but my body too." Her voice was laced with shame, but also defiance. "Because if I didn't… we would all be dead."
A heavy silence followed her words. The women around them exchanged fearful glances. Some looked at Reza with pity, others with unease.
Hadeefa exhaled slowly, her eyes flickering toward the child—the cambion, the unholy offspring of the deal she had made.
"You bear his seed," she murmured. "And now he has left his mark upon this world."
Reza clenched her fists. "I had no choice."
Hadeefa looked down at the young woman in her lap, the warrior who had fought, suffered, and sacrificed more than anyone should.
Finally, she let out a weary sigh and brushed a hand through Reza's damp hair. "You were never meant to carry this burden alone, child."
Reza squeezed her eyes shut, fresh tears escaping. But the cambion still watching. And far above, in the unseen darkness of the world, Iblis grinning.