A Message in Ruin

The last stone person was a statue.

The quiet in the cavern was big. And heavy. Bob's legs felt shaky. Lum leaned against the cold wall, her one hand pressed to her side. Traveller was breathing hard, their sword finally back in its sheath.

They had won.

"We should rest," Traveller said, their voice tired.

Lum shook her head, her eyes wide and urgent. "No. We must go," she said, her voice a low hiss. "Now. This place... it is awake."

Bob did not know what that meant. But he felt it. A low hum in the air. A feeling of being watched.

They did not walk out of the mountain. They hurried.

The cold mountain air felt good on Bob's hot face. He kept looking back at the dark doorway, half-expecting the stone people to follow. He felt... eyes.

They followed the same path down, moving much faster now. The world seemed too quiet.

Then they saw it.

A big rock next to the path was broken. Smashed into a hundred little pieces. A little farther down, the ground was black and scorched. Like after a big, angry fire.

Bob stopped and pointed with his stick-sword. "Big... fight," he said.

They reached the ridge overlooking the valley. The place where Bob had given the griffin his gift.

It was not a peaceful place anymore.

The valley was a mess. There were big holes in the ground, like something had exploded. Trees were snapped in half. And there were people on the ground. People in dark, heavy robes. They were all sleeping the deep sleep.

The Shardwing Griffin was there. It stood guard in front of its nest. One of its shiny, glass-like wings was bent at a strange angle. It looked very tired. And very, very angry.

But Bob saw something else.

In the middle of all the mess. On the flat rock where he had left it. The glowing blue mushroom.

It was safe. It was not touched. It still glowed with a soft, peaceful blue light. The griffin had protected it.

Traveller and Lum saw it all. The dark robes. The broken trees. The tired griffin. They looked at each other.

The people who fought the griffin... they wanted to get inside the mountain. They had failed.

But now, they knew someone else had made it inside.

The griffin looked up at them. Its glittering eyes were not angry at them anymore. They were tired. It looked at the small boy who had given it a light. It looked at the people who had woken the stone guardians.

They were not friends. But they were not enemies anymore.

They were survivors.