Slivers of sunlight pierced the loosely woven straw roof of the hut Makaela and her companions slept in. A few danced across her face, warming her cheeks and nose until she woke up. She blinked a few times before raising a hand to shield herself from the golden rays.

Lifting her head, she noticed Emile and Amora were still fast asleep. Emile's body was rigid and stiff on his cot, his face expressionless and dull. He slept like a corpse. Shuddering, Makaela glanced at Amora.

The girl was spread out wildly on her makeshift bed. One of her arms hung off the side, her fingers brushing the floor. Her black hair covered her face like a mask. Makaela snorted back a laugh.

She yawned and arose from her own cot. Stretching her arms while suppressing a satisfied groan, she left the hut and ventured outside.

While Emile and Amora might not have been awake, the village certainly was. She spotted a few of the men heading off into the forest with weapons, nets, and traps in their hands. She arched an eyebrow at their retreating figures. The women who were around were either preparing breakfast, washing clothes, or looking after the children.

Makaela smiled sleepily at them. Their lives, while simple, looked peaceful. They didn't have to worry about much and from the looks of it, they had a close-knit community. A family.

A frown replaced her smile.

"Wouldn't it be amazing if we could just stay here?"

Makaela spun around to face Emile.

The bald man smiled at her while rubbing his eyes. The morning sun glinted off his onyx skin.

She nodded. "Yeah, it would." Too bad we can't.

"One day, we'll be able to live whatever life we want to," he told her. A strange look filled his dark brown eyes. Makaela wasn't sure what it was. "One day."

"Is he spouting his nonsensical bullshit again," a tired Amora inquired. She stumbled out the hut. Her hair was a mess and her eyes were still bloodshot. Then again, Makaela's probably were too. "It's too early in the morning for that, Emile."

Emile pressed his mouth into a thin line. "Good morning to you too, Amora."

She smiled sweetly at him before facing Makaela. "Have they made us breakfast yet?"

"They're not our servants," Makaela scolded. "We're their guests, not their masters."

"Yeah, yeah." Amora stepped past her and looked around. "All I care about is food right now. You can save the lecture for later."

Makaela and Emile turned to each other, sharing an unimpressed look.

"Oh, good, good. You're all awake," the young girl from the previous night said while approaching them. "Breakfast is ready if you'd like to join us."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Amora chirped. She speed-walked over to where a few others were sitting down and eating out of wooden bowls.

"Sorry about her," Emile said.

"It's not problem," the girl replied. "We know how you Eldair are."

Makaela pursed her lips. What was that supposed to mean?

During the meal, she recalled some of the village people's men heading off into the jungles. She turned to a woman slurping down the juice in her bowl.

"Are the men out hunting for food?"

"Grifos negros."

Makaela frowned at the woman's reply. "Excuse me?" She didn't speak Portuguese, but those two words together sounded fairly derogatory.

"Black gryphons," Emile translated. "They're native to this region."

Makaela nodded and quickly apologized. Her eyes widened as she registered the information. "How do you live with those things in the area?"

Panther gryphons, also known as black gryphons, were a race of gryphons that had the bodies of black jaguars and the wings of a raven. They were more vicious and aggressive than their counterparts, who weren't as violent.

All gryphons had one thing in common, though; they stayed away from people if they could help it. So, why were they so close to the village?

After Emile relayed Makaela's question in Portuguese to the woman, she nodded. "Eles aterrorizam nossas plantações e levam nossos filhos."

"What'd she say?" Amora asked.

Emile furrowed his brow. "In short, they've been terrorizing this village's crops and stealing their children."

Amora set her bowl down. A dark look, like a shadow, passed over her pale face. "They guard Nyghtmir from the outside." She shook her head. "This village must be closer to the prison than they thought."

"Well, they did say it's hard to pinpoint it's location," Makaela pointed out.

From what she knew about the place, its cloaking charms made it extremely difficult outsiders—magicians and Ordiniaire alike—from being able to locate it on purpose.

"This just got a whole lot more interesting," Amora quipped.

"As long as we stay vigilant and close together," Emile began, "we'll be fine. Gryphons only have the advantage when attacking prey that is alone. We'll be in a group of three. We've got nothing to worry about."

Makaela wanted to believe him, but she couldn't fight off the doubt and fear filling her heart. As much as she liked gryphons, she knew they were dangerous creatures. If they let their guard slip, even for just a moment, one could swoop in from the sky and take them into the clouds.

Seeing as how she didn't want to become a gryphon's lunch, she decided to make it her mission to not get snatched by one. She didn't want to have to kill one, but if it came down to it, that's exactly what she'd do.

After finishing their breakfast, Emile filled a backpack with medical supplies, water canteens, and enchanted smoke bombs. Makaela wasn't sure what they'd need those for, but the old woman who made them insisted they take them with.

Amora simply called her crazy under her breath while sticking one in the pocket of her shorts.

"Nyghtmir is about ten miles south," the teenaged helper from earlier told them as they prepared to start their journey. She thrusted an old, worn map into Emile's hands, smiled, and left. As she walked away, she waved and yelled, "Good luck! Don't die!"

Makaela gulped.

"That was reassuring," Amora said, her tone suggesting otherwise.

"We'll be fine," Emile said. Makaela had a feeling even he was having a hard time believing that.

The trio made their way to the edge of the village and were seen off by the children from the day before. The way as they delved deeper into the foliage. Their cheery voices cut through the eerie noises emitting from the jungle.

The deeper they got, the fainter their voices grew. Soon, they couldn't be heard at all.

They were alone now.

Taking a deep breath, Makaela followed behind Amora and Emile as they made their way to the infamous Nyghtmir.

⟐ ⟐ ⟐

"Is there a lake or something nearby?" Amora whined as she wiped the sweat from her brow. "It feels like I'm in one of Pyrix's volcanos right now."

"Even Pyrix's volcanos aren't this hot," Makaela added. She was panting like a dog. The heat penetrated her clothes, warming her skin like coals in a barbeque pit. Within an hour of walking, her tank top had already been soaked with sweat.

Amora had peeled hers off moments before. She had it tied around her forehead like a bandana. Emile made it his job to let her know how ridiculous she looked.

The man hadn't been spared by the rainforest's harsh climate either. His sweater was wrapped around his waist and his fake-glasses were so fogged up that Makaela wondered how he could even see anything.

In fact, she wasn't even sure why he still had them on. He could see perfectly fine without them—or at least she thought he could.

"No, I don't think there's a lake nearby," he grumbled while looking at the tattered and stained map in his clammy hands.

"How much farther?" Makaela asked breathlessly. She fumbled for a canteen in the satchel hanging from Emile's shoulder. Ignoring the searing metal burning her hands, she gulped down the water, letting it soothe her overheating insides.

Amora snatched the bottle from her and did the same, earning an eyeroll from the girl.

"You didn't have to snatch it."

"You were drinking it all, halfling."

Makaela sneered. "Watch it."

"Play nice, you two," Emile warned without looking up from his map. "Now, if this is accurate, we're only about a mile away from the northernmost gate."

"A mile?!" Makaela cried. A few birds perched overhead squawked before vacating their branches and fleeing for the blue sky above. "Oops."

"Keep your voice down," Emile hissed. "If we're really a mile away, the gryphon's might be nearby. I'd rather us make it to the gate without running into one of them."

She agreed. While their magic could certainly take down a few winged panthers, she wasn't anticipating her energy being totally sapped from their walk through the jungle. Her entire body felt like it was being dragged through mollases. The sweat pouring from her pores wasn't helping either.

The sooner they got to Nyghtmir, the better.

"Why is it so hot?" Amora complained while fanning her face.

"This is Brazil," Makaela reminded her. "We're pretty much at the equator."

"It was a rhetorical question."

"Maybe the heat and sun will help you finally get a tan," Makaela quipped.

Amora fake-laughed. "Very funny. At least you two won't need a tan."

Makaela wasn't sure how to take that comment. Of course, her skin was naturally dark, but hearing that from a noticeably lighter person—and one as condescending and vain as Amora—was a little off-putting.

Emile didn't seem to fussed about it, though. He simply chuckled at Amora's comment. "You're just jealous of our melanin." He and Makaela high-fived and grinned at her. She simply scoffed and waved them off.

"Yeah, whatever."

The three of them continued walking through the muggy rainforest. They trudged up hills and were careful not to get their feet caught in the gnarled roots growing from the black-soil. As they navigated the tricky terrain, Makaela could hear rushing water from a waterfall in the distance.

Her eyes lit up at the thought of taking a swim.

She had a job to do, though, much to her chagrin.

"Let me see that map," Amora demanded while wiping her face with her shirt. She grabbed the piece of parchment from Emile and examined it. "This looks fake."

"What does that even mean?" Makaela grumbled.

"I'm just saying it doesn't look like a real..." She paused, her gaze narrowing. Makaela tilted her head at the girl.

"What?"

"You don't hear that noise?"

She shook her head.

"Aren't you supposed to have superhuman hearing?"

Makaela rolled her eyes. She stopped moving and listened to the sounds around her. The afternoon wind rustled through the leafy canopies. Other than that, and the waterfall miles away from them, she didn't hear what Amora was talking about.

A screech tore through the air.

"Oh." Makaela blanched. "You mean that noise."

Emile cursed under his breath and summoned his vayrir—a sword with an obsidian blade and an amethyst encrusted hilt. Amora's black dagger materialized in her hand seconds later.

Makaela would've done the same, had she been able to actually call upon the weapon bound to her soul. She'd never been able to summon it, no matter how hard she tried. She didn't even know what it was. And with her Nightling powers inaccessible, she was without a weapon.

Her magic was her only means of attack.

Groaning in agitation, she conjured up a shield charm and moved in close to her companions. They pressed their backs to each other and spun in a slow circle, keeping their heads raised to the sky.

Another piercing wail blared around them, closer this time.

A flash of black dove down from blue expanse above them. Yelping, Makaela broke formation and rolled out the way. Emile swung his sword at the beast that had landed yards away from him. Amora jumped to the side, holding her blade in front of her.

The gryphon snarled at Emile, baring its large, sharp teeth. Claws protruded from its furry paws.

"It's only one," Emile said, his voice wavering ever so slightly. "We should be able to kill it with no—"

He was silenced by two more gryphons descending in from the sky. They touched down next to their accomplice. Gleaming, blue eyes like burning sapphires shone in their massive heads. They tucked their wings in close to their lithe bodies and began circling their prey.

Makaela gulped.

"You were saying?" Amora said.

Makaela raised her shield charm between herself and the gryphon staring at her. The beast brought its paws down onto her charm. Cracks cascaded throughout the golden barrier, nearly destroying it instantenously. She dropped the shield and backed away quickly.

To her right, Emile was pelting the other gryphon with stunning spells. They didn't seem to be working, as each one disappeared into the animal's sable hide.

"How the hell are we supposed to fight these things?!" Amora yelled. She lifted her dagger just in time to block a strike from one of the gryphons.

We can't fight them, Makaela realized.

They would waste too much energy fighting the beast's with magic—energy they would need after making it inside Nyghtmir. The gryphons also had the advantage over them, due to being faster, stronger, and imprevious to certain battle magic spells.

They couldn't fight them, but they could get rid of them.

Her father's voice echoed throughout her head.

"Gryphon's are sensitive to intense forms of light..."

She directed her gaze to the gryphon encroaching on her. A low growl rumbled in the base of its neck. Saliva dripped from its maw. Taking a deep breath, the magician opened her palm and pointed her mark at it.

Here goes nothing.

"Avegulis!" She closed her fist and a burst of light exploded from her hand. It illuminated the forest, blinding her for a few seconds.

Once her eyes adjusted, she saw the gryphon's rubbing their faces into their paws. They stomped around, distressed noises rising from their throats. One of them took off for the sky, its wings flapping thunderously amongst the threes. Soon, the other two followed behind it.

Within seconds, they had disappeared beyond the clouds, their defeated cries echoing through the air.

Exhaling, Makaela dropped to the ground and tried to catch her breath. She let out a nervous laugh. "That actually worked."

"What spell was that?" Amora inquired.

"It was a blinding spell," Emile answered for her. He nodded knowingly. "It's not a common one. Who taught you that?"

Makaela's lips pulled into a frown. The memory of her father saving her from a gryphon using that same spell infilitrated her mind like a sinister parasite.

"No one," she lied. "I learned it myself."

"Well, it was a good thing you did," Emile replied. "I would've never thought to use something like that against them."

Amora snorted. "I could've come up with something better."

Makaela rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure you could've."

"Come now, girls," Emile said. He pointed at the nonexistent trail they had been following. "Let's keep moving."

⟐ ⟐ ⟐

The bulk of their journey seemed to be over.

In the distance, beyond the hazy veil lingering in the air throughout this section of the rainforest, laid the silhouette of a massive fortress. It erected into the sky, stretching past the trees like the hands of the tormented spirits in the bottomless pits of Nordor.

Makaela got chills just looking at it. Her footsteps faltered. A small voice in the back of her mind told her turn around, run away, and never look back.

She nearly did.

"Don't tell me you're scared," Amora said with a smug grin.

"And you're not?"

"I'm not scared of anything."

Makaela huffed. "Whatever you say, Amora."

Emile tucked away his map into the satchel hanging from his side. It had been ripped during the gryphon attack but managed to stay intact. "Well, there it is."

"So, what's the plan?"

Emile explained the strategy he'd been formulating since they left Castle Braexus. According the blueprint of Nyghtmir he studied a few days before, the prison only had one entrance on the outside. Along with the guards who patrolled the bridges constantly, a pair of watchmen would be guarding the main gate as well.

The plan was to have one of them pose as a captured Shade while the others disguised themselves as Eldai. Since Emile had been a part of the magical police force in the past, he was familiar enough with their uniforms to create a convincing impersonation charm.

"Okay," Amora said. "Who's going to play prisoner?"

"Well, it can't be Emile," Makaela said. "I think it'd be more convincing if you were the prisoner, seeing as how you've been a Shade for longer."

"No one knows I'm a Shade, idiot," she argued. "We wear masks, remember?"

"Obviously," Makaela grumbled. "But, deep down, everyone knows your father is the one behind the Order of the Black Lotus. It wouldn't take much for people to connect you with them too."

Emile rubbed his chin. "She brings up a fair point."

Amora deadpanned. "There is no way I'm doing this."

She had no idea how wrong she was.