Zeke grinned. “Regardless of whether you know the truth doesn’t matter. This battle was over before it even began. Jaycee, Alec, nice to see you both. Sadly, this will be the last.”

Before Jaycee had the chance to question the finality in his words, the ground underneath him shook. From above, rocks and pieces of ore landed around them. Jaycee struggled to remain standing as the tremors became greater, limbs unsteady.

Seconds later, Alec appeared by his side. “Give me your sword.”

Jaycee quickly complied and observed as Alec dug the weapon into the dirt below. He grabbed Jaycee and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, holding him close, fingers sinking into his arm while Alec’s free hand stayed on the hilt.

In all the commotion, Zeke must have fled, for when Jaycee looked, he was nowhere in sight. Around them, the vibrations reached their peak, and a deafening crash followed.

All went black.

By the time he opened his eyes, the surrounding area was serene once again, as if nothing had transpired. Although he struggled to see, with the only light coming from a lantern that survived way off in the distance.

He sensed a presence by him. Someone had placed some cloth on him, for his body was pleasantly warm.

Jaycee tried to sit up, but was gently coaxed back down. He braced himself for impact with the cold earth, but instead found himself on heated thighs.

“Hold your head still.” The voice belonged to Alec. Cool hands touched his forehead. “You’re still running a fever.”

Perplexed about what happened, and how much time had taken place, Jaycee laid there puzzled. As soon as he opened his mouth, Alec’s low tone continued.

“The ceiling caved in. A rock fell and scraped your head. The damage wasn’t severe, but it still did quite a number on you.”

Wanting to find out how bad the wound really was, Jaycee reached up to feel the wound, only for calloused hands to seize his own. “Rest. I doubt we’re going anywhere soon.”

Just as he was about to argue, a wave of fatigue washed over him. Unable to focus, he succumbed to the demands of his weary self.

In his dreams, Jaycee pictured a familiar yet old run-down building. Even though his eyelids were heavy, he realized they nailed the windows shut, only allowing a minuscule amount of moonlight to peek through the cracks. The space was chilly as a fall breeze snuck in through the holes.

The scene playing out before him was unmistakable. One he had wished to forget for as long as possible. The vividness before him had bile creeping up his throat.

Standing in the doorway, an observer watched as they piled body after body on top of him. A low moan erupted from his lips, but he swiftly bit his tongue to quiet himself. He wasn’t sure if he was tasting his own blood, or if it came from the carcasses stacked on his back.

Whispered words reached his ears. “Is he dead?”

“What do you think?” The other’s reply sounded irritated.

Hiding underneath the pile of decaying corpses, Jaycee could only pray to a god he didn’t believe in that they assumed him dead. The women and men that weighed him down were eerily quiet. Only the groans and squeaks of air escaping them filled the room.

“Call the Fioma military.” A new person joined the exchange, a recognizable one Jaycee heard before, but couldn’t quite place. “Have them clean up this disgusting mess. Our job here is done.”

Using what little strength he had left, Jaycee dug his nails into the floor to pull himself forward a smidge. He titled his head up, and as his eyesight blurred, the only man he spotted was a younger-looking Zeke.

Immediately Jaycee shot up, wide awake and heart throbbing. He felt his muscles tense up and his breathing become erratic. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants.

Unlike his dream, his current surroundings were inky black, like a sky at nighttime with the moon concealed behind the clouds.

Alec was no longer by his side.