Del dragged a weary hand down his face, wiping grime and sweat onto his already filthy sleeve. The battle’s echoes lingered in his bones, muscles still twitching from exertion, bruises blooming beneath his armour like flowers of dull pain. The air in the crypt was finally quiet, though not peaceful—not yet. A lingering unease hummed through the chamber, like a silent aftershock of everything they’d just endured.

  Taking a moment to steady himself, Del limped carefully towards the empty pool at the centre of the shrine. His numb leg dragged slightly with each step, still tingling unpleasantly from the necromancer’s foul magic, yet strength gradually returned to his muscles as he moved. The silence was broken only by the soft shuffle of Elara’s boots against the stone as she wandered toward the statue of Myrrith, eyes heavy with contemplation.

  Crouching by the plinth, Del examined it more closely. Near the stone base, beneath layers of accumulated grime, sat an old drainage hole. Curious, he knelt down, brushing aside dirt and fragments of shattered stone to reveal tarnished metal beneath. Although the statue’s arms were broken, severed brutally at the joints, he spotted something else hidden beneath the ruin—pipes, thin veins of tarnished metal winding discreetly into the stonework.

  “I think this was once a fountain,” he said aloud, more to himself than anyone else, running fingers along the exposed piping. The metal felt rough beneath his fingertips, covered with years of accumulated dirt and thick, blackened residue. He frowned, clearing away a bit more debris to reveal the lines disappearing down beneath the plinth.

  “A fountain?” Elara asked, raising her head with interest from where she’d settled, seated on a low chunk of debris. She stood up slowly, shaking off her own fatigue and moving closer, curiosity sharpening her gaze. She crouched beside him, studying the piping and the statue with renewed fascination. “Are you sure?”

  He nodded, tracing his finger around the drainage hole in the stone basin. “Pretty sure. See? There’s a line here, must’ve been for draining. It would’ve drawn water from somewhere underground, I reckon. Maybe an underground spring or something.”

  Elara tilted her head, leaning in closer to inspect the dirt-caked metal. Her fingers hovered hesitantly over it, as if she could sense the lingering mana woven into the ancient plumbing. “If that’s true, the spring could still be active beneath us.” Her eyes gleamed, excitement breaking through her exhaustion. “Imagine what that could mean—a source like this, saturated with nature-affinity mana. Certain potions, elixirs… their potency would be remarkable.”

  “Nice,” Del replied, a tired but genuine grin tugging at his mouth as he pushed himself upright again. “Something useful out of all this mess.” He stretched his back, bones clicking softly in protest. “Why don’t you and Naomi start clearing out some debris? I’ll see what I can do about checking out this plumbing—maybe see if we can get it running again.”

  Elara straightened with him, arching a delicate brow, her lips quirking into a faint, teasing smile. “Just don’t break anything.”

  Del chuckled, nudging away some loose fragments of stone with his boot. “No promises.”

  ‘Master plumber, am I now?’ he asked himself wryly. ‘Who the hell am I kidding?’

  ‘Certainly not yourself, you dumb bastard,’ his alter-ego shot back, mercilessly accurate.

  Misty, stretched languidly on the rim of the empty basin, regarded them both with a deeply unimpressed expression. Her fur was sleek once more, the violence of her earlier transformation faded back into deceptive calmness. Golden eyes narrowed, watching Del with a mix of lazy amusement and feline scepticism.

  ‘Water?’ Her thoughts drifted lazily through his mind, radiating distaste. Her tail flicked once, sharply, a visual punctuation of her disdain.

  Del pointed at her accusingly, though his voice held more affection than irritation. “You could help too, you know. Don’t just sit there supervising.”

  Misty’s tail flicked again, more sharply, and she responded with a tiny mew that dripped contempt, deliberately turning her head away from him.

  Elara laughed softly, a sound that brought warmth back into the chilled air of the desecrated shrine. Her blonde hair caught the light as she swept it back, the strands glinting gold amidst the shadows. “I think you’ll have to earn her cooperation.”

  Del snorted, his exhaustion easing slightly under the gentle teasing. “Yeah, sure,” he said dryly, crossing his arms over his chest as he glowered playfully at the cat. “Because that’s worked so well in the past.”

  Misty merely blinked slowly, the smug flick of her tail speaking volumes.

  “Bribery works better,” Elara suggested, bending down slightly to scratch Misty behind the ears, exactly where she liked it. From somewhere in the depths of her cloak, the elf produced a morsel of bacon. The cat perked up immediately, abandoning all pretence of aloofness, purring and rubbing enthusiastically against Elara’s fingers.

  Del sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “And you complain about me spoiling her.”

  “Who said I was complaining?” Elara teased gently. “She’s earned it.”

  Misty purred louder, eyeing Del sidelong as she enjoyed the snack, clearly delighted by her successful manipulation.

  Del rolled his eyes affectionately, returning his attention to the ancient fountain. Kneeling back down, he began clearing away more debris, fingertips scraping against stone that hadn’t felt sunlight in generations. His hands were soon filthy, nails crusted with muck, but the steady rhythm of work helped calm his frayed nerves, grounding him in the present.

  After a moment of companionable silence, Elara spoke softly again, her voice reflective. “I wonder what happened here. Myrrith’s shrines are rarely abandoned—certainly not like this.”

  Del paused, glancing up at the fractured statue, at its face worn smooth by time, and sighed heavily. “Whatever happened, it wasn’t gentle. And we can’t know if the necromancer was the cause, or came after and made use of the abandoned space.”

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  Elara met his gaze, expression thoughtful, tinged with a quiet sorrow. “No. But we’re here now, and whatever darkness lingered... it’s gone. Maybe this place can be healed.”

  Del nodded his own quiet resolve hardening. “Then let’s do our best to make sure it stays that way.”

  Misty, finishing her bacon, sat back with a satisfied air and promptly resumed supervising, golden eyes reflecting faint amusement.

  ‘Try not to cock it up, Del,’ her voice murmured into his mind, tone thick with mockery. ‘Or at least wait until Elara can’t see.’

  He snorted softly, hiding a smile.

  ‘Oh, piss off.’

  Del turned his attention back to the plinth, the ache of battle gradually receding into a dull background pulse. The strange mix of adrenaline, relief, and exhaustion filled him, leaving his body feeling simultaneously hollowed out and oddly weightless. He took a slow, calming breath and focused on the task before him.

  The fountain mechanism intrigued him. There was potential here—if he could just coax it back to life, even briefly, it might be worth the effort. Del knelt beside the stone plinth again, brushing carefully around the tarnished metal piping, following its curve downward. A drainage hole sat near the base, clogged with years of leaves, moss, and dirt, barely visible beneath the grime of ages.

  Behind him, Elara and Naomi began slowly clearing away debris from the floor, their quiet movements accompanied by gentle murmurs and soft laughter. The familiar sound of Naomi’s giggles eased the tension that still lingered around them, while the occasional drip of water from the ceiling kept a gentle, rhythmic tempo—a soothing counterpart to the raw, lingering memory of battle.

  “Do you think followers of Myrrith used this place often?” Del asked, as much to fill the comfortable silence as anything else, his voice echoing softly in the vast chamber.

  Elara paused in her efforts, considering the question. “They might have,” she replied thoughtfully. “Shrines like this often hosted rituals of renewal and cleansing. A fountain drawing mana-rich water would have been an important focal point.”

  Del nodded absently, tracing his fingers along the edge of the stone plinth. “If there’s any chance it still works, it might be worth the effort to restore it.”

  His fingers brushed across a small irregularity, hidden beneath layers of dirt—a faint depression, too symmetrical to be accidental. Curiosity pricked at him, and he pressed experimentally against the indentation. There was a faint, barely audible click.

  He froze. “Did you hear that?”

  Elara stopped mid-motion, ears twitching slightly. “Hear what?”

  “Not sure. But—” He pressed a little harder, and a hidden compartment at the base of the plinth slid open with a soft grinding sound. Del raised an eyebrow, lips curving in surprised amusement. “Well, hello.”

  “What did you find?” Elara asked, setting down a chunk of rubble and quickly coming to crouch beside him.

  “Looks like some kind of control panel,” Del murmured, brushing the dust gently aside to reveal intricate runes carved into the stone, pulsing faintly with a gentle, verdant glow. “It seems to be intact—though how long it’s been since anyone used it, who knows.”

  Elara leaned closer, curiosity lighting her eyes as she examined the runes. “Be careful, Del. Mana circuits this old can be unpredictable.”

  “Careful’s my middle name,” he joked softly, drawing a sceptical glance from the elf. “Mostly.”

  Elara shook her head with a smile, straightening and returning to the task of clearing debris with Naomi. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

  ‘Master of subtlety and finesse,’ he thought sarcastically, earning a snort from his other self. ‘Sure, Del, keep telling yourself that.’

  Ignoring his own mocking doubts, Del peered into the opening, examining the intricacy of ancient craftsmanship within. The mechanism was impressive, a delicate interplay of carved stone, metalwork, and subtle threads of dormant nature magic woven through every piece. Beneath it, barely visible, was a small reservoir—water still pooled, undisturbed save for tiny bubbles drifting slowly upward.

  “I can see water down here,” Del called back to Elara, peering deeper into the darkness. “It looks clean enough, and it’s flowing—slowly, mind you, but flowing nonetheless.”

  He frowned thoughtfully, then shook his head. ‘Better stop and think this through properly before I fuck something up irreparably.’ He pulled out his thinnest knife, a stiletto whose delicate blade gleamed in the dim light. He couldn’t help the brief tightening of his stomach at the memory of Lucas—poor bastard—but quickly pushed the thought aside. Using careful, precise motions, he began to scrape away years of accumulated debris from around the drainage hole.

  A thought struck him. “Naomi?” he called softly, gesturing her over, she had been entertaining herself playing with Misty.

  Naomi trotted to his side eagerly, eyes brightening with anticipation. “Yes?”

  Del knelt to her eye-level, smiling gently. “I have a very, very important job for you.”

  She straightened excitedly. “What is it?”

  “Well, I’m going to fix Myrrith’s fountain as best I can, but I need your help. I need you to clear out all the leaves and dirt from the pool—make it clean enough that Myrrith would be proud. Think you can do that?”

  Naomi’s expression broke into a delighted grin, her enthusiasm clear. “Sure, then can I play with Misty again

  From somewhere near Elara, Misty released a disgruntled little mew of protest. The cat stretched pointedly, shot Del an accusing look, then moved a few feet away and curled up in a convenient patch of sunlight filtering through a crack in the roof.

  Del chuckled softly, watching Naomi dart off eagerly to begin clearing leaves and dirt from the stone basin. ‘She’s definitely loving playing with you, Misty.’

  ‘She’s bloody relentless,’ Misty muttered in return, settling in for a determined nap.

  ‘You love it, really,’ Del teased, turning his attention back to the panel.

  With careful precision, Del began scraping away decades of accumulated debris from the drainage hole, each careful movement bringing clearer definition to the ancient fountain’s workings. After a short while, the drain looked clear enough to test. Pulling his waterskin from his belt, Del poured a thin stream down into the hole, leaning closer to peer through the opened compartment. His heart lifted as he watched the liquid flow freely through the system below, cascading into unseen channels beneath.

  Satisfied, Del leaned back slightly. His muscles, aching from earlier exertions, protested mildly, but he ignored the discomfort. Now wasn’t the time to rest.

  ‘Now I just need to figure out how to tourn the damn thing on,’ He thought.

  He glanced around, feeling a sudden, irrational need for reassurance. ‘BB, Teach, Menolly You listening? Any pointers?’

  Nothing.

  ‘How about you, Myrrith? It’s your shrine, can you tell me how to start it up?’

  ‘

  No response came, though a faint whispering breeze teased the edge of his senses—a distant laugh, too soft to be certain. Del shook his head ruefully, closing the access panel carefully.

  “You figure anything out?” Elara asked, glancing back as she carefully moved another fragment of debris.

  “Think so,” Del replied cautiously. “Mechanism looks good, and water’s flowing. Getting it properly functional, though... that’ll take more work.”

  He stood slowly, brushing grime from his hands and stretching his aching back. Misty cracked open one golden eye briefly before pointedly resuming her nap, unimpressed by his accomplishment.

  Del shook his head fondly. ‘Lazy moggy.’

  Nearby, Naomi enthusiastically cleared dirt and small stones from the dried up pool, utterly absorbed in her task. Her hands were dirty, her face streaked with grime—but her expression shone brightly with genuine joy.

  Del watched her quietly, his chest tightening with something warm and fierce.

  ‘Worth it,’ he thought firmly, feeling the remnants of his tension melt away, replaced by determination. ‘Definitely worth it.’