Stargrace’s sandals made little paff paff noises on the sun warmed flagstones as she skipped ahead, arms swinging loosely at her sides.
“So,” she chirped, “do we all finally agree that this is not a trap?”
“It looks like a trap,” Yamini muttered, gripping her shield a little tighter as she eyed the half sunken ruin ahead. Vines curled like claws over ancient spires, and the faint hum of arcane energy pulsed from beneath the moss-covered stones. “Everything about this says ‘trap.’”
“I hope it is,” said Vaelira, leaping from a ledge and landing beside them with a practiced flourish. Her fel-green eyes burned with anticipation. “I could use a little mayhem. Last week was so boring.”
“You were almost arrested in Silvermoon for joyriding a hawkstrider through the Sunspire.” Louves the vulpera priest was not looking up, her snout buried in a thick, rune etched tome. “That’s not boring. That’s criminal mischief.”
“I returned it! Eventually.”
“You crashed it into a garden.”
Stargrace giggled and began hopping from rock to rock along a broken path that led deeper into the ruins of Sunveil Hollow. “Come on, you four-legged grumps. This place hasn’t seen visitors since the Cataclysm, and the spirits are lonely.”
“Who told you that?” Yamini asked, visibly alarmed.
“The wind,” Auremai answered sweetly, and skipped ahead.
Vaelira followed, humming under her breath and cracking her knuckles in anticipation. “This is going to be great.”
“Stars above,” Yamini muttered, shifting her shield again. “Why do I always come along?”
“Because we love you,” Louves said, snapping her book shut and trotting to keep up. “And because you’re the only one who can cast Blessing of Protection when Vaelira sets something on fire again.”
“I don’t always set things on fire.”
“You once set soup on fire.”
“It was too flammable! That wasn’t my fault.”
They reached the heart of the ruins, where a circular dais sat half-submerged in a shallow pool, surrounded by six weathered statues. Stargrace twirled once in the center and tapped a tile with her toe. “Puzzle time!”
“I love puzzles,” Louves said, eyes shining.
“I hate puzzles,” Vaelira groaned.
“Yamini?” Stargrace turned expectantly.
“I hate this,” Yamini muttered, already resigned to another long afternoon of chaotic nonsense.
The statues shifted with a grating sound, each turning slowly to face the dais.
“Don’t move,” Louves whispered.
“Don’t breathe,” Vaelira replied.
Stargrace immediately jumped.
The statues stopped.
“…Okay, do move,” Vaelira amended, drawing her glaives. “That was way cooler.”
Over the next two hours, the four friends worked together, bickering, laughing, occasionally dodging blasts of ancient magic to solve the puzzle. Louves deciphered inscriptions. Yamini anxiously monitored their health bars. Vaelira fought a ghost serpent that Stargrace may or may not have released on purpose. And Stargrace?
She danced on the tiles, light as wind, grinning the entire time.
When the dais finally rose, revealing a dusty old chest filled with relics and enchanted trinkets, the four gathered around, breathing hard but victorious.
“See?” Stargrace said brightly. “No trap.”
Yamini looked at the scorch mark on her tabard. “Define ‘no trap.’”
“I had fun,” Vaelira said.
“I documented three previously unknown inscriptions and a teleportation rune,” Louves added with pride.
“I just want to go home and nap,” Yamini sighed.
They stood there for a moment, looking at each other. An odd collection of warrior, wanderer, scholar, and spark, and then Stargrace said, “So! Who’s up for exploring the Witherbark caves next?”
“No,” said Yamini.
“Yes,” said Vaelira.
“…Maybe,” said Louves.
And together, they laughed.
A Pixel Nomad 