The deepest pits of Othronn were a world apart from the great city of Sharyrdaes above. Here, the walls of the cavern stretched high and uneven, honed from ancient rock, buildings carved into the stone like anthill tunnels. There were no stars, no sun, no sky—only the eerie glow of faint, floating fae-lights, drifting aimlessly like lost souls.
The air smelled of damp earth, metal, and sweat, thick with the scent of burned herbs and pipe smoke curling from the dens of those who sought escape. The streets were narrow and twisted, slick with filth, and the deeper one strayed from The Line—the beating heart of Othronn—the fewer the rules applied.
This was Tawny’s world.
She kept her head low as she moved, her auburn braid tucked beneath a frayed hood, the worn leather of her boots near soundless against the stone paths. The scrap of parchment Grim had shoved into her palm hours before was still crumpled in her grip, his instructions carved in sharp, jagged script:
“Package. Corner of Black Hollow. Don’t be seen. Don’t be followed.”
She had done errands like this a hundred times before. But something about this one felt off. Black Hollow was a part of the Pit where even the desperate feared to tread. If Grim was sending her there, it meant the package was important, dangerous, or both. Her stomach twisted, but she ignored it. She didn’t have a choice.
She slipped through the alleys, ducking under sagging bridges, weaving between rotted market stalls where vendors hawked stolen goods, illicit potions, and flesh for coin. The eyes that lingered on her were hungry, knowing. Tawny kept moving.
She reached Black Hollow before long, where even the glow of fae-light struggled to reach. The cavern was quieter here, the air thick with tension. A lone figure waited in the shadow of a jagged stone archway—a man draped in tattered leathers, his face obscured by a hood. A small wooden box rested in his palm.
Tawny hesitated only a breath before stepping forward.
“Grim sent me.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
The man said nothing, only extended the box. She reached for it. Then— A shout rang out behind her. Boots slammed against the stone. Tawny’s heart lurched.
Not alone. Not safe. Not good.
She snatched the package and ran.
The air smelled of damp earth, metal, and sweat, thick with the scent of burned herbs and pipe smoke curling from the dens of those who sought escape. The streets were narrow and twisted, slick with filth, and the deeper one strayed from The Line—the beating heart of Othronn—the fewer the rules applied.
This was Tawny’s world.
She kept her head low as she moved, her auburn braid tucked beneath a frayed hood, the worn leather of her boots near soundless against the stone paths. The scrap of parchment Grim had shoved into her palm hours before was still crumpled in her grip, his instructions carved in sharp, jagged script:
“Package. Corner of Black Hollow. Don’t be seen. Don’t be followed.”
She had done errands like this a hundred times before. But something about this one felt off. Black Hollow was a part of the Pit where even the desperate feared to tread. If Grim was sending her there, it meant the package was important, dangerous, or both. Her stomach twisted, but she ignored it. She didn’t have a choice.
She slipped through the alleys, ducking under sagging bridges, weaving between rotted market stalls where vendors hawked stolen goods, illicit potions, and flesh for coin. The eyes that lingered on her were hungry, knowing. Tawny kept moving.
She reached Black Hollow before long, where even the glow of fae-light struggled to reach. The cavern was quieter here, the air thick with tension. A lone figure waited in the shadow of a jagged stone archway—a man draped in tattered leathers, his face obscured by a hood. A small wooden box rested in his palm.
Tawny hesitated only a breath before stepping forward.
“Grim sent me.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
The man said nothing, only extended the box. She reached for it. Then— A shout rang out behind her. Boots slammed against the stone. Tawny’s heart lurched.
Not alone. Not safe. Not good.
She snatched the package and ran.
