The winding streets grew narrower as Finn led us deeper into the city's underbelly. The distant hum of life—the clatter of carts, the muffled shouts of merchants—faded into an eerie hush, swallowed by the damp, twisting alleyways. The air smelled of wet stone and old smoke, thick with the ghosts of long-doused fires.
Ahead, Finn stopped abruptly before a weathered wooden door set into the crumbling remains of a once-grand building. It stood crooked on rusted iron hinges, its faded paint peeling in brittle flakes. The wood beneath was scarred, splintered from time and neglect.
He rapped twice, paused, then knocked three more times. A heartbeat later, a narrow slit in the door scraped open.
A pair of sharp eyes peered through. "Identify."
Finn scoffed. "Elric and Finn, numbskull. Now let us in—she's with us." He jerked his chin toward me.
A slow, exaggerated pause. Then, the voice—dry, laced with mock confusion. "Hmmm. Doesn't ring a bell."
The man on the other side scratched his head like he expected the answer to fall out of his hair.
Finn's patience snapped. "Cass, cut it out. Keep playing dumb, and maybe you'll find out how long you last without your share of rations."
A low chuckle. Then, the scrape of locks sliding free.
The door swung open, revealing a dimly lit corridor. The air inside was warmer, thick with the scent of burning oil and damp earth.
"Inside. Quickly."
Finn gestured for me to enter first. I hesitated—half expecting a trap—but the look in his eyes, urgent and unyielding, left no room for doubt. Steeling myself, I stepped forward. Elric followed close behind, his presence steady at my back.
The corridor led into a vast underground chamber. The ceiling was low, the space wide, carved into the city's very bones. Oil lamps flickered against rough stone walls, their golden light casting shifting shadows. Crates and makeshift beds lined the perimeter, stacked between barrels and worn-down furniture.
People—dozens of them—paused mid-conversation as I entered. Some were wrapped in tattered cloaks, others clad in scavenged armor. Their gazes swept over me, quiet and assessing.
A lump formed in my throat.
Elric stepped closer, offering me the faintest, reassuring smile.
Finn, on the other hand, sighed. "Alright, quit staring. You'd think you lot had never seen a new recruit before."
A few chuckles rippled through the room, breaking the tension. The murmurs resumed, though I could still feel the weight of a few lingering stares.
Cass leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me with mild amusement. "So, she's the reason you two took your sweet time getting back?"
Finn shot him a glare.
Cass arched a brow. "That so?" He turned his gaze back to me, head tilting as if trying to figure something out. "You don't look like much."
I crossed my arms. "Let me guess, you're the type who needs a bigger sword to compensate?"
Cass barked out a laugh, low and rough, before shaking his head. A slow smirk crept across his face, like he hadn't expected the fight in me but was pleasantly surprised. "Damn, Finn. You might actually have your hands full."
Finn muttered something under his breath, shoving past Cass into the chamber. Elric shot me an approving glance, amused but not surprised.
Cass stepped aside, still grinning. "Go on, then. See how long you last."
As I followed Finn and Elric deeper into the rebellion's stronghold, the weight of the watching eyes pressed down on me. I had no idea what I'd just walked into. But one thing was clear—there was no turning back now.
The underground chamber stretched deeper than I expected, its stone walls damp and uneven. The air smelled of burning oil and earth, mingled with the faint scent of something metallic—blood or rust, I wasn't sure.
Elric fell into step beside me, his tone shifting into something softer, more informative. "This was once part of the old city," he explained. "Back before the purge, before magic was outlawed, this place was used as a trading post. Now, it's what keeps us alive."
I glanced around as we walked. Shadows flickered over worn-down cots, battered crates stacked with supplies, and people hunched over makeshift tables, murmuring in low voices. A few glanced up as we passed, their gazes sharp with suspicion, some with curiosity.
Finn took the lead, his posture stiff, like he was waiting for something to go wrong. "Food and supplies are scarce," he said. "We ration everything—water, medicine, even space. If you don't pull your weight, you don't get a seat at the table."
Elric shot him a pointed look. "What Finn means is, everyone contributes. Whether it's scouting, gathering intel, training—"
"Or looking pretty," Cass interjected, falling into step beside me with a lazy grin.
I sighed. "Ah, so that's your job, then?"
His grin widened. "I knew I liked you."
Finn groaned. "Ignore him."
Cass draped an arm around Finn's shoulder. "Come on, I'm just saying, not everyone has to swing a sword to be useful. Some of us provide… morale."
"Right," I said dryly. "That's what we're calling it?"
Cass clutched his chest like I'd wounded him. "You wound me, truly." Then he turned to Elric. "Tell me we're keeping her."
Elric, to his credit, managed not to laugh. "That's not my call."
Cass sighed dramatically and turned to Finn. "Well, what about you, fearless leader? Surely you see the value in keeping someone with wit, charm, and—"
Finn shoved his arm off. "You're a flirt, Cass. Not an idiot."
Cass smirked. "Then I take that as a yes?"
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't fight the small tug of amusement at my lips.
As the banter settled, the reality of the rebellion began to sink in. The worn-down faces of the people around me, the way they clutched their meager belongings, the constant weight of hunger in the air. It wasn't just a fight. It was survival.
The air grew colder the deeper we walked, damp seeping through the stone. I glanced at the low ceiling, at the thick wooden beams holding up tons of earth above us. "We must be miles under the city," I murmured.
Elric nodded. "Feels like it, doesn't it? The tunnels go deep—some were built as escape routes for nobles during past wars. Others were used by magic wielders, long before the purge, as hidden sanctuaries." His voice dipped slightly. "Not that it saved them."
A chill ran down my spine. These tunnels had once been safe havens, and now they were little more than graves for those who had come before.
Cass, still trailing beside me, smirked. "It also means if you get lost down here, good luck finding your way back."
I shot him a look. "Is that supposed to be a warning?"
He grinned. "Maybe. Or just an excuse to stick close to me. I wouldn't blame you."
Finn groaned. "Cass, she's been here for five minutes. Do you ever take a break?"
Cass tapped his chin. "From flirting? No. From work? Also no. I'm a very complex man, Finn."
Finn ignored him.
We turned a corner, and suddenly the chamber opened into a larger space, bustling with quiet activity. People gathered around tables stacked with old maps, while others sharpened weapons or mended clothing. The smell of something cooking—thin, but warm—drifted through the air.
Elric gestured toward the heart of the room. "This is the real work of the rebellion. Planning, training, surviving." His expression softened. "And if you're staying, Lyra, you're going to have to find your place in it."
I nodded slowly, my fingers tightening into fists.
I didn't know where I fit in yet.
But I was determined to find out.