Chapter 53| The Expedition Departs
The combined expedition assembled at the underground city’s northern gate three weeks after Allen’s arrival in the Wasteland — a force considerably larger than Allen had initially anticipated, drawing volunteers from both Barbarian and Elf ranks in numbers that spoke to just how deeply the promise of genuine hope had spread through both wounded peoples.
Ashkar led twelve of his finest warriors, Ancestor Blades gleaming in the harsh amber sunlight filtering down through the northern gate’s wide entrance. Thessaly commanded an equal number of Elf scouts and battle-mages, their crystalline weapons humming with barely contained resonance energy. Sera insisted on joining as well, despite Ashkar’s visible reluctance, citing the expedition’s continued need for careful, precise translation between their two allied peoples.
"You didn’t have to come," Allen told her quietly as the expedition made its final preparations.
"I did, actually," Sera said, adjusting the strap of a modest pack across her shoulders. "Someone needs to make sure Barbarian and Elf soldiers don’t accidentally start a fresh war through simple miscommunication, three days into unfamiliar territory." A faint, wry smile touched her lips. "Besides. I want to see this world get better. Not just hear about it happening from the safety of the encampment."
Councilor Yvaine addressed the assembled expedition personally before their departure, her voice carrying clearly across the gathered ranks. "What you attempt today has not been seriously attempted in eighty years," she said. "I will not pretend the odds favor you completely. But I will say this — never before has an expedition departed with the combined strength of both our peoples, alongside power our oldest texts describe as capable of standing against exactly what you’re about to face. If any attempt was ever going to succeed, it is this one."
Mother Ash’s projected image, maintained through considerable Elf magical effort for this final farewell, added her own solemn blessing, Sera translating with visible emotion. "Go with the strength of both broken halves of this world behind you," she said. "And return with the wholeness we have all been waiting eighty years to reclaim."
The expedition set out shortly after, the underground city’s crystalline glow gradually giving way once more to the harsh, amber-lit surface, the Wasteland’s cracked earth stretching before them toward a distant, jagged horizon where dark, roiling clouds gathered in a way that felt distinctly unnatural even from this considerable distance.
"That’s where we’re headed," Myria confirmed, studying the ominous formation with grim, focused attention. "The Elf scholars call it the Hollow Reach. Apparently the sky itself refuses to hold a normal shape anywhere near the Devourer’s domain."
"Comforting," Irene muttered, though her flames flickered with restless, eager anticipation rather than genuine fear.
They traveled for four days across increasingly hostile terrain, the wasteland’s already harsh conditions growing steadily more severe the closer they drew toward the Hollow Reach — cracked earth giving way to jagged, glass-like formations that Myria theorized had been fused by some ancient, catastrophic heat; the amber sky darkening prematurely into something closer to perpetual twilight; even the twin moons, when visible at all, appearing subtly, wrongly distorted through the thickening, unnatural clouds.
Allen used the journey to deepen his understanding of Shadow Transposition, carefully marking each of his wives in turn during quiet moments of rest, testing the skill’s range and limitations under Myria’s careful, methodical supervision.
"Range appears functionally unlimited so far," Myria noted, reviewing her observations by the fourth night’s campfire. "Though the resonance link requires renewal every seventy-two hours or so, based on what we’ve tested. Something to remain mindful of once we’re actually engaged in combat."
"Duly noted," Allen said, watching the flickering campfire with quiet, focused attention, the weight of the coming confrontation settling steadily heavier across his shoulders with each passing mile.
Vivian settled beside him that night, as she often did during quiet moments of reflection, head tilted toward the increasingly wrong, distorted sounds carrying across the Hollow Reach’s distant borders.
"It sounds hungry," she said quietly, unease coloring her usually composed voice. "Not like any beast I’ve ever tracked before. Something deeper. Older."
"Scared?" Allen asked gently.
"Cautious," Vivian corrected, though she didn’t fully deny the underlying truth of his question. "There’s a difference, even if the two feel remarkably similar in moments like this." She leaned into his side, seeking the same quiet reassurance she always sought in moments of genuine uncertainty. "Whatever’s waiting for us out there, I intend to make sure we walk out the other side of it. All five of us, together."
"Together," Allen echoed, the word carrying the same unshakeable weight it always had since a cold car ride into Hegeville had first taught him exactly how much strength that single word could hold.
Around their small campfire, the combined expedition settled into watchful, uneasy rest, and beyond the darkening horizon, deep within the Hollow Reach’s perpetual twilight, something ancient and patient continued its slow, deliberate feeding — entirely unaware that the largest, most determined challenge to its decades-long dominion was now less than a single day’s journey away.
Myria remained awake long after the others had drifted into restless sleep, tablet forgotten in favor of the more immediate, hand-drawn maps Thessaly’s scouts had provided, cross-referencing terrain against every fragment of intelligence the Elf archives had managed to preserve from the failed expedition eight decades prior.
"You should rest," Ashkar said quietly, settling nearby with the same easy familiarity he’d shown since their first meeting on the ridge, Sera stirring briefly from her own light sleep to offer translation before drifting off again.
"I will," Myria said, not looking up from her notes. "Once I’m confident we’re not walking into the same mistakes that cost the last expedition everything."
Ashkar studied her for a long moment before responding, and Sera, roused fully now by the exchange, translated his words carefully. "He says his people have a saying. The sharpest blade breaks first, if it never rests between battles."
Myria’s mouth twitched with faint, tired amusement. "Tell him I appreciate the wisdom, even if I don’t intend to follow it just yet."
Ashkar’s answering huff of laughter needed no translation at all, and he settled into a comfortable, watchful silence beside her, an unexpected but welcome companion through the final tense hours before dawn would carry them the rest of the way toward whatever waited within the Hollow Reach’s darkening borders.