Darial,

I scarce know how to write this. We pressed deeper and the Gobos massed, chanting. Their shamans drew mana into one vast bolt, enough to fell mountains.

We froze, and I thought it the end. But John stepped forward.

“Stay behind me,” he said, strumming his lute once, soft and steady. His voice rose into a song that built walls of light. The bolt struck, the world went white - and when the light cleared, he was gone. Only his cracked lute lay smoking on the stone.

Tina sobbed. Xty screamed “No!” until her voice broke. Emily stood stiff, jaw clenched, tears on her cheeks. Bam Bam kicked stones, cursing. Albee touched her rings but said nothing.

Jack picked up the broken lute and spoke:
“If we stop here, his song dies with him. If we go on, it carries.”

So we went on. But the road has never felt so silent.

Kyle