The dungeon was a labyrinth of dread, its cold stone walls closing in on her like a predator ready to strike. D’arce could feel the palpable tension in the air, thick enough to cut, and she hated how the creeping anxiety gnawed at her resolve.

But she pressed on, knowing she couldn’t let fear consume her; not now, not when Le'garde was still somewhere in this hellish place.

Glancing down, she stole a worried look at the little girl who clung to her side, trembling a bit. D’arce had found her locked away in a dark cell just hours before, and though the girl had protested, insisting she didn’t want to leave, D’arce knew the dungeon offered no safety for a child. “You’re safe with me,” she whispered, trying to reassure both the girl and herself. The little one just kept following her, her tiny hand gripping D’arce’s tightly.

D’arce’s thoughts drifted to Le'garde—his laugh, his unwavering bravery, the way his eyes sparkled when he spoke of adventure. She felt a surge of love mixed with desperation. He wouldn’t abandon her. He was out there, somewhere, and she needed to find him before the darkness swallowed him whole.

The echo of distant sounds—scratches, whispers, and the scuttling of unseen creatures—sent shivers down her spine. She tightened her grip on the lamp, raising it higher, casting a larger pool of light around them. “Stay close,” she murmured, glancing down at the girl.

Every creak of the stone felt like a warning, a reminder of the dangers lurking just out of sight.

As they turned a corner, the path widened into a small chamber, the walls etched with long-forgotten runes. The light flickered against them, casting eerie shadows that made her heart race. “Le'garde?” she called softly, the name slipping from her lips like a prayer. The silence answered her, and unease curled in her stomach. She forced herself to stay calm for the girl’s sake.

Suddenly, a faint noise echoed from deeper within the dungeon—metal scraping against stone, perhaps the sound of someone moving. Was it Le'garde?