It starts quietly, the rumble. A growl, of sorts. Xara can't sort which ones are from the Fenrirs, who have no doubtedly given them away, or the safe. The stone shudders under their feet, groaning. Xara whirls around, facing the others. In the shaking, she can't see them properly, but catches their wide eyes. They're just as shocked and scared as she is.

Xara's emotions are a tumultuous, gnarled mess. Her hand still smarts from the cut she'd made, demanding attention. But with her jumble of thoughts, the pain dulls.

"What's happening?" Vieva yells, her flame zigzagging and sputtering as her confidence and focus wavers.

"I don't know!" Xara tries to respond, but the words lodge in her throat. When she'd scoured the Warlord's journal after returning from the Inventory Gala, trying to parse out his intentions, she'd read nothing about the safe opening in such a violent way. By now, the whole school will know something's occurring. She can almost picture it in her mind, somehow, through the chaotic mess: the dancers would've stopped, and so would've the musicians. Everyone would panic, and the professors would struggle to keep everyone under control. The two professors they'd tipped off may or may not confess-- though it's unlikely, for there would be a good chance that they'd be sacked. But Xara's confident in the fact that the Headmistress and her closer confidantes will know about the safe, and would have guessed where the five of them had run off to.

Xara's blood throbs, swelling with her magic. This ancient place, this secret, it pulls at the magic in her blood. It calls to her, crooning with a voice that's neither pleasant nor unpleasant.

We have waited for you, little storm.

Xara shoves them away, wincing as their small claws scrape her mind. She doesn't know when the voices had planted themselves in her mind, at what stage of his fear-inducing adventure, but something tells her that until she gets far, far away from the safe, she won't be rid of them.

The thundering of the safe intensifies, until a starting screech merges with the sound. Stone moans against stone, resisting the movement.

Xara feels the jarring clashing of the stone in her bones, and her knees quiver. The safe splits in the middle suddenly, yawning, giving them view to the darkness beyond. Pebbles and dust crumble above them, sprinkling the five of them like snow. Owain sneezes twice behind Xara.

Xara brings her arm up, shielding her eyes from the flood of darkness. It makes her eyes ache, trying to squint into the safe. It's futile. She can't see a thing.

When the extreme sounds finally cease, no one dares to move a toe, breathing heavy and hard. Xara presses a shaking hand to her head, using the pressure to recenter her focus. She can't be put off now. Founders only know what waits for them in the safe.

"We're going to get expelled, aren't we," whispers Owain, in a drawn, stumbling voice. He trips over the words.

Xara sympathizes with him. "It's likely."

The topic of expulsion snaps Vieva out of her dazed, fearful stupor. "I can't be expelled! My family would disown me!"

"That's... actually sort of sad." Derald comments.

Vieva magic comes to life, in tune with her anger. "Oh, what do you know, Pellefard?"

"Guys, please," says Lysabel in a quivering voice. "We're here now. If we leave, I don't think we'll be able to come back."

We have to continue on. This is our only chance.

The voices cackle in Xara head again, filling her mind with the discordant sound.

You know you want to go, Xara Roffinnes. You want to see.

They echo her thoughts. Xara sweeps her gaze across the other four, trying to appear collected and calm. Truthfully, she can't comprehend what they intend to do. Something incredibly valuable is clearly hidden here, as it is well protected by the school and by the Headmistress. The Warlord clearly needs whatever's hidden inside the safe. Xara's anger sparks thinking of the Warlord. Somehow, nobody seems concerned about the fact that the Warlord's running around Ruxnorth, stirring up all sorts of trouble.

She still hasn't gotten over him being in her mind. It had been the worst feeling, rivaled only by the screech of the voices in her head, who have now gone silent and still. The Warlord reminds Xara of a crocodile lying in a river, waiting patiently for it's moment to strike.

"Let's go."

Owain's eyes widen doubly, something Xara hadn't thought possible. Even though the terrifying noises stopped almost 6 minutes ago, he still clings to the wall, unwilling to release.

"Did you not hear the earthquake!" he says shrilly, voices swooping up an octave at the end.

Vieva sighs impatiently. "Executive decision. Snagsnout stays behind, and Lysabel stays with him. The three of us go."

"Umm, no." Lysabel steps forward. "We're all going. We shouldn't split up."

"Lysa's right," says Xara, finally finding her voice. She clears her throat. "We have to go together."

Owain whimpers.

Vieva rolls her eyes and stomps over to Owain, who cowers slightly. Vieva adopts a falsely happy face. "Owain," she begins in a sweet voice, practically dripping with condescension and dark sarcasm, "if you don't get your stick of a body into that safe, I will drag you myself, understand?"

Xara shoves Vieva away lightly and helps Owain clamber to his knees. He looks as though he may collapse any second, but he remains standing.

"You can do this, Owain. Besides, do you want to stay up here when the professors and the Fenrirs could find you at any moment?"

"Both are terrible options," mumbles Owain.

"Lesser of the two evils, Snagsnout," says Derald gently, pointing at the awaiting safe.

Leave him, the voices slither back in her mind. Leave them all. Come to us.

Shut up. Xara says angrily, shutting them out again.

Owain sucks in a breath. "I'm going to regret this every day for the rest of my life."

"Spare the dramatics, Owain. You'll live," Vieva says, with a casual wave of her hand.

Xara takes a deep breath, feeling the air in her lungs. "We need light."

Vieva nods once then edges to the safe, conjuring a ball of fire. She tosses it forward with eased strength, the movement fluid and graceful. She may be insufferable occasionally, but Xara can't deny Vieva's skill with her magic.

Vieva looks back, unblinking. "There's no path."

Xara halts her train of thought. "What? How's that possible?"

"There's no path," Vieva tosses another ball of flame, "because the only way forward is down."

Owain nearly faints, and Lysabel goes bone white. Even Derald, who's always up for adventure, seems to sway a little.

Founders help us.

✡✡✡

"It's no big deal. We'll be fine, even considering the 99% chance that we'll crack our sculls open." Owain mutters, words flowing endlessly from his mouth. While after the opening of the safe he couldn't find words, now it seems he can't stop saying them.

"How far down is it?" Derald says in a strangled sort of voice. Sweat shines on his tan forehead, illuminated by Vieva's self-made torch.

Xara clears her mind, making space for rational thought. The voices giggle in her mind, chattering meaningless nothings. Derald's right- finding how to get down should be their first step. By now, everyone would be making their way to the safe. They didn't have time to ponder and ruminate any longer.

"I got this." Xara goes as far as she dares, and conjures a small ball of wind. It whooshes, swirling the flame in Vieva's hand. The briskness of the wind greets her like a familiar kiss. It brushes across her skin fondly.

Xara forces the wind into the safe, expanding the size of the ball so she can get a good sense of the surroundings. Then she slowly begins to lower it down, down, far into the foreboding darkness of the safe. Xara sees the safe through the lense of her creation as it obediently follows her command.

"What do you see?" Lysabel inquires, peering over her shoulder.

"Nothing yet," murmurs Xara, unable to disguise her worry. It's already been a good 6 minutes, and there hasn't even been one indication of the floor. The item must be hidden deep, deep under the school. As her wind continues to descend, Xara can't help but wonder what will truly happen. At the Inventory Gala, none of them had expected the Warlord to show up. Yet he had, evading all the guards' notice easily.

"Guys," Xara starts. They aren't going to like what she's going to say. "We have to prepare for the possibility of the Warlord being there."

Owain and Derald collectively groan.

"We're going after something he obviously wants." Vieva crosses her arms, watching Xara. "It's likely."

Then, there it is. What Xara had been waiting for. The ball of wind hovers above the ground. Shutting her eyes and tuning out Vieva and Derald's bickering, she redirects her energy to seeing the floor of the safe through her wind. It's a trick that Professor Evenfall had taught her, how to see through your magic. It's a trick originally meant for Tsunamis and Gaias, but it works for her wind as well.

Xara flattens her hands, commanding her wind to level and spread. The wind expands, expands, expands, until...

There. Xara finally finds the walls of the safe. It almost reminds her of the gigantic, indestructible tower from one of her favorite childhood stories. Xara's mother collects stories, of all genres, but the story of the prince stuck in the tower, saved by the dragon, had been Xara's all time favorite.

"I found it. The ground."

The heated conversation behind her eviscerates as the four clamber up behind her.

"How far down?"

Xara grimaces. "Do any of you get airsick?"

Owain enthusiastically raises his hand.

"If it's any comfort, we'll get down pretty fast before you have time to vomit."

Vieva's face scrunches up at the mention of vomit. "Please, if you have to, don't come within 10 feet of me."

Derald waves to their surroundings. "I'm not sure there is 10 feet. And besides, you can't control when you want to throw up, it just happens."

"If you guys keep talking about vomiting," groans Owain, who isn't sounding great. "I might throw up now."

"Enough, Vieva, Derald," scolds Xara sternly. "We're going. Now."

"I'll go first," volunteers Derald nobly, taking a large step forward and puffing out his chest.

Vieva edges in front of him. "No, I'll go. I'll get some light for Xara, and besides"-she smirks at Derald-"I want to see when he falls and crashes on his face."

"You wish," he retorts, but concedes all the same, stepping back.

Vieva comes to stand beside Xara. She gives her directions. "Jump, and I'll cushion your blow with the wind."

Vieva eyes the small sphere and wind in Xara's palms suspiciously. "And you will catch me?"

Xara scowls at Vieva. "Just jump."

Vieva smirks back at the others. "See you down."

She lets herself fall off the edge.

✡✡✡

Vieva's flaming hand gets smaller and smaller as Vieva free-falls down the safe. Xara maneuvers her wind to support Vieva, hopefully slowing her down. Though she wields her magic confidently, Xara has to fight to keep herself from picturing the what-if situations. And in her mental turmoil, the voices have broken through her barrier, with their unbearable cackles. Xara hones her attention on the feeling of her magic, ever-strong, coursing through her blood.

Eventually, they hear a dull thud. It's quiet, easy to miss, but they'd been looking for it.

Xara peers down the hole, anticipation and dread mounting with every second. Then, the sign she's been looking for. A burst of fire. Vieva had made it safely. Xara gives the three behind her a thumbs up, relaying Vieva's message. They all look relieved, and though she can't see her own face, Xara would imagine that she looks the same.

Next it's Owain, whom Xara gives even more cushioning to. Judging from the ooof Vieva had given when Owain landed, he had landed fine. Then it's Lysabel, who looks determined, but can't hide the fear written across her face. Smiling quickly at Xara, she hops down. At this point, Xara's arms start to hurt, and the strain has become obvious. Her veins have turned leaden and her knees wobble. Derald squeezes her shoulder sympathetically.

"We're almost there, Xara. I know you can do it."

She smiles weakly at him. "Don't worry about me. Go."

He jumps, arms outstretched. At this point, Xara moves woodenly, conjuring wind subconciously. Derald shouts from the bottom, surprised as he lands. Vieva yells, indignant and angry.

"WHY DOES EVERYONE KEEP FALLING ON ME?"

Xara rolls her neck slowly, releasing the tension in her neck. It's different supporting herself with her magic. When she pushes the wind in front of her, she knows exactly where to direct it. Now, she'll have to focus on the fall and cushioning her fall.

"XARA, IF YOU FALL ON ME, I SWEAR-" There's a muffled crush of voices as Xara lets herself fall. She whistles through the air, feeling the breeze cut across her skin. Vieva's fire illuminates the chamber, and Xara catches a glance at the floor. It comes closer and closer, preparing to swallow her. Xara braces with her forearms, letting the wind envelope her in a familiar hug.

Now.

She stops a foot above the floor, then allows her wind to dissipate. She drops in a crouch. Owain glares glumly.

"Why couldn't you do that for all of us?"

"Was my body not enough for you?" Vieva snaps at him, her fire flaring in tune with her temper.

With the assistance of the light, Xara can finally see the safe in its entirety. It's a dank chamber, with stark, mildering walls and a slick floor. Owain looks green as the moss as they meander deeper into the safe.

"Do we even know where we're going?" Lysabel asks from the back.

"No." Xara admits. "But it can't be too large. We'll find our way."

"I bet it's trapped down here." Owain grumbles gloomily. "I would've had to go through that for nothing."

"Then why are you even here?" lashes Vieva. She turns to Xara. "Send him back up. Now. We don't need this kind of energy."

"Guys, enough," says Derald evenly. "We need all the eyes we can get." He nods at his roommate. "Can your magic help us out in any way?"

Lysabel shrugs apologetically. "The moss is the only thing I've sensed. And I can't work with moss."

Owain twists his lips.

They tunnel deeper, and Xara notices that the slope of their path has started downward. Whomever had carved this safe hadn't done it so evenly. She even slips a few times, only caught by Derald, much to her embarrassment.

The smell incenses her. She can't pinpoint what it is, but it's nowhere near pleasant. It's probably better than she doesn't know.

Vieva sends her fire again, watching it jump from once abandoned torches.

"How did you-"

Before anyone can even breathe, the ground breaks in two. And they're falling....

.... Falling

.....falling

....falling

Until they land in a pile of sticky goo. Xara's mind shifts into survival, and she writhes around. It only makes the goo suck harder at her skin. Any contact her skin comes into with the goo, she's unable to unattach herself. It's like a spider's web, but stickier.

"What is this stuff?!" screams Vieva, who thrashes and bucks wildly. The goo has begun to creep over her ornate dress, spreading fingers around her waist. She screams again, kicking, but the goo catches her legs, holding her in place. Derald and Owain have both gone deathly silent, and pale, while Lysabel searches their surroundings in short, ragged breaths.

"Stay calm!" Xara calls to them, craning her neck as far as she can go without getting the goo stuck to her cheek. The whispers in her head increase in volume, laughing wildly.

A fly is caught in the trap, a fly is caught in the trap...

They sing and sing again and again until Xara wants to tear them from her head.

Vieva sobs once. "Let me out!"

With one final kick, the goo begins to wrap her in a cocoon, spinning her around and around. Vieva wails as her hair gets stuck to the goop. As Xara looks around, she sees similar things happening to the others. Crazy as they may be, the five of them truly look like flies, ready to be devoured by the awaiting spider. Xara gulps nervously. She hadn't expected such an elaborate trap. But one consolation comes to mind: how will the Warlord get past these sort of obstacles?

Don't underestimate him, Xara. That is his biggest weapon.

An acrid smell wafts from the left, and Xara coughs. "What is that smell?"

She looks over, and has her answer. Fisted beside her body, Vieva's hand is smoldering with flame. She's trying to smoke herself out. Somehow, the spidersilk holds fast. If they weren't trapped in it, Xara would've wanted to study it. Now, she never wants to see it again.

"It's not working!" pants Vieva frantically, letting her fire die off.

"I don't think anything will break it." Xara says, leaning back with a sigh. Her mind works furiously. There has to be some loophole, something that will let them through.

That's when she realizes that the voices have gone silent. It's as though they'd never been there in the first place.

They're waiting. Xara realizes.

She licks her lips, then reaches out to them with her mind. She plunges past her barrier.

I'm ready.

There's another moment of eerie, pin drop silence, then the silk ball around Xara shatters, like pieces of glass. She yelps, surprised, and for the third time today, falls. She quickly casts her wind just as her toes skim the ground.

"You're clever, little storm."

Xara whips around, and nearly screams. She claps a hand over her mouth.

Standing before her is a colossal spider. Somehow, the spider seems to be smiling, amused.

"You have not seen my kind before."

Xara can hardly find the strength to shake her head, let alone stutter out an answer.

"Ah." the spider adjusts her-or his?- position, crouched comfortably on the side of the chamber. It's a wonder it even fits down here. "I scare you."

"No, no," Xara rushes out. "I'm just shocked, is all."

"Hmm." The spider observes her curiously, with it's black orbs of eyes. "Your words say something, but your eyes speak something else."

Silence unfolds for a long moment before Xara works up her nerve. "Release my friends."

The spider laughs, a harsh sound. "So petulant, little storm." The orbs shine. "Why should I? You have come into my domain, landed in my web... there is no reason for me to do what you say."

"We're searching for something really-"

"Oh, I know exactly what you are searching for." She clicks her pointers together angrily. "The thing you seek is the reason I'm imprisoned here."

Xara's eyes widen. "Imprisoned?"

Something dark and deadly festers in the spider's eyes. "I had a name. A family. A home. The Founders took it all from me."

"The Founders?" Xara asks, bewildered. "They would never do such a thing."

The spider angles it's head. "This land's blatant adoration and faith of the Founders are a poison." It draws itself up. "They are not saints. They do not deserve such respect."

"But they've done great things too." Xara argues.

"Great for you, perhaps. The narrowmindedness of humankind astounds me."

Good, Xara. Maybe they'll find a way to get out if I keep it talking.

"I don't believe you."

"I'm not-" the spider stops speaking abruptly. Then she laughs again, low and visceral.

"Oh, little storm, I underestimated you."

Naked fear shoots through her, like a lightning bolt. Her intentions have been uncovered.

"I told you to release my friends." Xara speaks with a strength that she most definitely doesn't feel inside.

"And I told you why I wouldn't," counters the spider, it's voice drenched with cold amusement.

They stare off, and her eyes flick over every one of the spider's eerie eyes.

"Can I walk you through a hypothetical?" Xara inquires after sometime, infusing her voice with an edge of gentleness.

"It won't change my decision."

Xara forges ahead. "You manage to stop us, and stop the Warlord from getting whatever it is that's down there. You do your job. Then you do it again. Again. And again. Tell me, what has been promised to you that you carry out your job so faithfully?"

"My freedom," the spider whispers, it's voice a shadow.

"I see." Xara's arms begin to shudder from the strain. She's nearly out of time. "What assurance has been given to you that you'll get your freedom?"

The spider barks a bitter laugh. "I know what you are trying to tell me, little storm. I was naive then. I'm not now."

"I can give you what you desire." Xara inhales softly as the words leave her mouth. She's taking a large gamble.

"You can't," the spider counters, though Xara can hear the wistfulness in it's tone.

"I can. I am in the good graces of Liira Casktalon herself. I will convince her."

The spider peers at Xara impassively. It goes on for so long that Xara nearly cries out from the agony of holding her wind.

"You are sly, little storm. Just like he is." Xara's shoulder's tense, and her magic falters. "But I accept. Keep in mind as you continue that I know not what or who waits ahead of you. But I will be waiting for you to carry out your word."

With that, like when she'd burst free, there's a shattering above her, and the shards rain down upon her, slicing her skin slightly. Xara hisses between her teeth, desperately fighting to hold her magic and not wince in pain.

Her friends fall, flying past her.

Xara releases her magic, and then she's falling too, hurtling to whatever or whoever awaits them next. 

>>AUTHOR'S NOTES:

this may be the longest chapter I've ever written, which is why it took me this long. I'm really sorry for the delay in writing this, but these past few weeks have been an absolute CRAZY HOLE. anyways, we're nearly done, so look forward to the ending! it's getting spicy;)

peace&love,

raniaditi