With Verolya sitting on top of a hill overlooking the vast blue ocean, it's hard to imagine it ever fell. The port controlled by the Luskhovisch Duchy glistened below, displaying a spread of barges of different sizes with sails grander than the last. Most bore symbols of the other port cities tasked to bring goods around Arvensey, but some carried the sigils of nearby countries like Irelkha and Mondolore.

Madalynn tightened her hold on the straps of her bag. Her mind settled on Gomoky for a while as it had done for the past week. Would someone steal her beloved horse? How could she even retrace her steps from Verolya?

She clenched her jaw and frowned. She'd figure out how to get her steed after she stabbed Arren in the back and got her prize. It's what she came here for, anyway.

The ruins bled from her feet the moment the grass and compact soil turned into weathered cobblestones. Verolya was an imperial city, meaning there were remnants of walls, outposts, residential houses, and crumbling establishments scattered around the hill. After stopping for the nth time to catch her breath and jab a closed fist to undo the knots on her knees, she doubted this was even a hill. It's worse than Durynska, because...stairs.

Curse them.

They had been climbing for a while now, braving the bright sunlight punching through the gaps made by the caving roofs and see-through glass windows peppering some buildings. Through some clearings made by walls falling away from their pillars, she spied spires protruding from the higher levels. They resembled the Crusche towers in central Arvensey, so those must be the old religious centers in Verolya.

The air was salty, and the sound of waves crashing against the hill's foot laced around the occasional flaps of bird wings and their hungry, morning chirps. Cats with splotches of colors and various designs padded by, scampering with a hiss whenever Madalynn and Arren got too close. She didn't mind though. Her father often compared her to one of those, and she had come to agree after petting one in the Grand Duchess' gardens.

Dusty bricks colored the rest of the scenery beige. She skipped over a chunk of the wall which had toppled over the stairs. The mortar had long gone rigid, and when the bricks cracked, it went along too. Would the sun be able to bake the ruins back to the sludge they once were? Plausible.

Something moved behind her, and she turned to find Arren clutching his bag closer to his chest. He glared at a tabby cat who eyed him with slitted yellow eyes. The two devolved into a frozen staring contest, gauging each other who would lunge first. Madalynn stomped down and slapped Arren upside the head. He flinched, startling the cat into scampering into the shadows of the alleys.

"Get a move on," she snapped. "They're harmless."

Arren massaged the back of his head. "Is that necessary?" he demanded, but he followed her and continued their journey towards the palace ruins sitting at the top of the hill.

She merely rolled her shoulders and focused on putting one leg over another. Step after step after step. Before noon, they reached the summit, meaning the dilapidated arch which had once heralded the beginning of the imperial palace. Now, she ducked her head under an arm, watching the brittle keystone groaning with every light brush of the wind.

The rest of Verolya bled out before her, and it was...

"That's it?" She waved a hand at the bunch of meaningless bricks piled over each other. Shards of glass whose vibrant colors have faded into muted tints. Facades of rooms and the front door remained, but the edges have weathered with time.

Arren's boots crunched against the cluttered floor without an inch of reverence. "Sad truth about empires," he said, shouldering his bag and trudging towards an alcove to Madalynn's left. Finally, something unidiotic coming out from his mouth. "Let's go. The notes say the treasure hall is behind this door."

Madalynn stalked after him, noting the faded mosaic decorating the wall shielding their view of the sea beyond. The sound of waves were louder than ever, much to her consternation. She hated the sea and going in it. Bad childhood memories. "What door?" she leaned to the right, letting her long ponytail trail off her shoulders and hang in the air. "And why are those notes so accurate?"

He flashed her a quick look. "Aren't you fishing for information?" he asked. "Because I won't give them to you."

"Stingy old man," Madalynn scowled and crossed her arms. She'd cross him once they got the Heart, then. Maybe even stick his dagger into him. Which one was preferable?

She could only watch as Arren pressed his hands on the mosaic, feeling for any grooves. Hmm. If this was a door, then...

Arren whirled to her when she moved behind the alcove. Nothing connected it to anywhere. "Where's the room it's guarding?" she asked aloud, tapping her chin.

It's just an arch seemingly detached from everything else. No bricks littered its radius, so it couldn't have stayed upright while everything else fell away. More like...it was installed there in the middle of a room, probably disguised as an exhibit or something.

She pushed Arren out of the way and, ignoring the sputtered protests behind her, crouched by the mosaic decorating this "wall". Then, she rammed her fist into the floor. Her knuckles thunked against something hollow. Wood, from the feel of it against her bones. As expected. No wonder the room was only discovered recently. It's hidden quite well, and only the rain seeping into the varnish of the wooden tile gave its secrets away.

Whoever the Krahviyn were, they sure were smart.

The wood groaned and embedded splinters against her palm when she lifted it up. Like the treasure-hunting stories she grew up reading, this was truly the start of the journey. "How did you figure that out?" Arren demanded as she slipped into the man-sized hole on the floor.

"Aren't you fishing for information?" Madalynn bit back, grunting when her foot hit the rickety beginnings of a ladder. Ugh. How deep would this climb down go?

Arren could only grumble under his breath as he followed her into the depths. Soon, the light was reduced to a small square beam signaling the hole they came in from. Another step down, and her boot scratched stable ground. Stone. Perfect. It's another room.

Something sparked behind her, and she turned in time for a bright orange flame to flicker to life. Arren's face was shrouded with darkness when he waved the fire close to her face, urging her backwards. "What? Surprised?" Arren taunted.

Okay. Scratch that. She still hated this Renlicht.

Madalynn crossed her arms and strode south. It seemed like the only direction to tackle. Their footsteps echoed in the hollow darkness, the torch doing little to ward off the thickening ink. She breathed in. Out. She could do this. It's just the dark. It couldn't harm her.

She turned a corner and the flames caught a glint of white. Glass. "Stop," she spread her arms towards what felt like the corridor's wall. Arren's stomach bumped against her left arm. "I think we're here."

Without another word, she braced the wall and felt around to build the possible shape of this new room in her mind. If she had to run, she wouldn't need a fire to make her way back up. The flames of the torch showed her silhouettes of glass boxes, each containing something sparkling inside.

She knew what this was. The ancient Grand Duchess' collection. At least, the rumored jewels that weren't already recovered from the explored spots. Her eyes had adjusted now, registering the various coronets, diadems, jewelries, ceremonial crowns complete with the high arches and velvet caps, and the star of the show.

The Heart of Verolya.

It stood apart from everything else, and unlike its contemporaries, no glass box surrounding it, as if the ancient Grand Duchess aimed for people to rid her of it. The way it was placed in such a crooked manner, with the thin gold chain resting on the cushion in disarray, revealed it was probably placed in a hurry.

She could almost picture the scenes happening before her eyes. The Grand Duchess, probably accompanied by two or three maids, scampered to this room, throwing the Heart onto its final resting place, before hurrying back up. History dictated her fate. She was shot down by a crossbow bolt the moment she stepped out of the palace.

Arren ruined it all by swiping the jewel from the place and scurrying away with the fire.

"Hey!" Madalynn called after the man, but he had already disappeared out of the room. Her father was right. One should never trust a Renlicht.

She rushed forward, following the thinning slivers of flames whizzing through the dark tunnels. The wooden ladder creaked in protest as he scaled it in a hurry. It didn't stop since Madalynn went on next. Fresh air slapped her cheeks the moment her head poked back to the surface. Salt gathered over her lips, the wind whistling through the ruins driving most of her dark locks off her face.

Her gaze zeroed in on Arren who was almost to the steps leading to the back of the palace, the one closer to the edge of the hill. Oh, not a chance. He's not running away with her jewel.

She pulled the rest of her body up, launching into a full run without respite. Her thudding footsteps must have alerted Arren because he turned to her direction. Too late. She barreled into him, making him lose hold of the Heart. In the bright sunlight, the jewel looked too pink for Madalynn's taste, but it made it easier to fish out of the sheet of beige rubble.

They slammed into the dusty ground, Arren taking the brunt of her weight. She trampled over him and lunged for the jewel resting by its lonesome. Her fingers almost closed around it when her world flowed backwards, a hard grip closed around her ankles. She looked back to find Arren digging his nails against the leather of her boots. A growl rose to her throat. She drew her leg up then whipped it down.

His grip loosened, matched with a pained grunt. Madalynn squirmed out of his grip and crawled to the jewel, snatching it by its chain. She staggered up and dusted her trousers and whipped her hair over her shoulder. Enough of this squabble.

She took one step away from the edge they came close to in their mad grappling. A shadow fell over her, followed by the dull ache rising from her shoulder. Her feet slipped from the ledge, and the sea called out to her with such hunger.

The wind bit against her skin, and the only thing she saw was Arren with his arms stretched forward.

He pushed her. Arren Renlicht killed Madalynn Agnussen.

Oh, he's going to pay for that.