If it had happened to anyone else, Ror wouldn't have believed it for a second. She considered herself a practical person, not one to fold to traditions or whispers of lore, but there was no denying what she had seen with her own eyes.

Magic was so rare in that country, that when it did show itself, it had to be with great pomp and circumstance. It had been nearly four months since the key had found her and chosen her as a Keeper. Four months to plan, to research, to understand what had happened to her and what it meant.

Could it have been a tiny brass key, easily tucked into a coin purse? No. Ror tugged down the sleeve of her tunic. It had to be silvery lines of energy bound into skin ..

The vegetation of Western Luxland was growing less and less forgiving. Ror took care with every step, knowing she was getting closer and closer to her goal, the place that the relic was hidden. The Temple of Ancients.

It had taken Ror a long time to accept the reality of the Key. It had taken her even longer to learn about the temple, and its promised artifact. But what had entered her mind almost instantly, with cunning and cruel precision, was what she would do with the artifact when it was hers.

Light leather armor. White tunic. White cloak, with a beaked hood. Tan trousers. Loaded quiver, and a sturdy bow-staff. Raven-dark hair, a creamy complexion, and a wry smile. Ror had every confidence she would be able to get in, find the relic, and get out without any trouble at all. It was her style. It suited her, she knew how to play it well.

If only I can find this temple ..

She picked her way delicately over a hill, and gave a soft "Ah!" of surprise. Below her were seven stone monuments all in a circle. A moss-covered diaz was in the center. A low slab of cement with a familiar pattern of writing waited for her. This was the entrance to the temple. She was just in time.

She did not immediately dart into the stone circle. She crouched there for a few minutes, sharp eyes taking in the surroundings, observing the stonework, the pattern of moss. Satisfied that nothing (at once) seemed amiss, it was then and only then that she began her descent.

Ror pushed back her sleeve, revealing the silvery writing on her arm. She looked at it with disgust. Well, now it would become useful to her. She approached the temple door, where she recognized a few of the major symbols. Taking a deep breath to calm her mind, she reached out .. out, further still .. her heart pounded, and her quivering fingers brushed against the cold, ancient stone.

.. Nothing.

Ror huffed, chiding herself for letting her excitement get the best of her.

There was rustling in the jungle behind. Ror tugged her sleeve down again, drew an arrow from her quiver, notched it against her string, drew back a shot and sunk to one knee all in one smooth motion. Black eyes narrowed, combing the ridge.

Someone was coming ..

Forests, Jake had decided, were bullshit.

No matter how deftly he clambered through the undergrowth, ducked under branches, hopped over streams, there was always something to trip him out of nowhere, or fall into his face, or scratch at his exposed forearms. He'd resorted to using his sword as a crude machete, something which was nothing short of disrespectful to the faithful weapon. At least it let out a little frustration, hacking at the vegetation that had hampered him for the last half day of walking.

Flushed red and sweating, he pressed onward through the never-ending green.

The silvery threads upon his arm caught the light as he passed below a gap in the canopy overhead, glittering mystically. He paused for a moment to gaze at them, lost briefly in contemplation.

How had he ended up here, so far from his little home town?

When he'd found the key, when the little threads of light had latched onto his arm, he'd had no idea what he'd be getting himself into. He'd always enjoyed the stories of people who went off on great adventures, fought beasts and evil wizards and came out on top for their happily ever afters, but it had never been something he'd considered a reality. Back home, the closest you got to that was being on the night watch. The night watch, when the creatures that shied away from the sun might choose to wander close to the gates, to try to get in for a banquet of defenseless humans.

It wasn't a glamorous fairy tale, though. People died on the night watch, it was something that was accepted. Dragged from their posts when their comrades' backs were turned or ambushed beyond the wall during a patrol, they weren't romantic, heroic deaths. Just brutal and all too real.

For the longest time, Jake hadn't known what to do with the mystical threads, hadn't known what they meant. But they had taught him, in their own way. They had a funny way of twisting fate, he'd found. When a particular book had dropped from the cart of a travelling merchant at his feet that told of a legendary relic of great magical power, accessible only with an oddly familiar sounding key... well, he'd put two and two together. He was no scholar, but even he could see a connection when it was laid out in front of him.

He hadn't planned for this, much. He'd packed supplies, he'd got a vague idea of where he was going, but... mostly? He'd relied on instinct, and on the nagging tug of the key upon his arm. He went where he got the feeling the key wanted to go. It might have been irrational, but that was just how he rolled.

Jake shook his head, jolting himself from his reverie. He pressed on.

Eventually, the trees started to thin a little. He could make out a clearing ahead, a small hill. He broke from the trees with a small curse as yet another bug nipped at his skin, looking up at the open space... only to find, of all things, an arrow pointed at him.

"Five days with not another damn soul to be found," Jake muttered with a groan, "And now the first person I meet is pointing a sharp object at me. At least you aren't another cursed bug. At this point I think I'd rather be shot than stung again."

At least the reinforced studded armour he wore would help a bit with that. All it did for the bugs was trap them inside and make them angry. Jake breathed out heavily, waving his free hand at Ror. His sword hung off to one side in a non-threatening manner. Posturing with it wasn't going to get him anywhere, and frankly he was too hot to bother. He settled for scowling at her as he spoke. "I don't know who you are, but I'd appreciate it if you stopped aiming that at me."

Ror lowered her bow. She rose to her feet. She did not return the arrow to its quiver, preferring her distance, running the calculations on how quickly she could pin him to the stone pillars before he got any closer.

He was nothing more than a boy, rugged, slight-of-frame, but armed with a crude shortsword that he clutched with childish fervor. Had he come to try and claim the relic? She had told no one of her journey, but "five days" of wandering from the nearest village could not have possibly brought him to this temple, at this exact moment.

"Run along, I have business to attend to," said Ror coolly, eyes darting to the dungeon's door.

"Haha, funny joke," Jake stepped forwards slowly, keeping his weapon lowered so as not to provoke the woman. She looked dangerous, clad in that hawk-like hood that shadowed her eyes. She certainly looked a lot more intimidating than he did, he imagined, as red-faced and worn out as he was. "In case you hadn't guessed already, lady, I'm not just out for an afternoon stroll either."

The brown-haired young man glanced around, waving a hand at the surrounding jungle. "I don't know what else is out here that I might be here for, but, I'm getting the impression that the only thing worth seeing in this accursed wilderness is right here." He pointed at the stone of the temple door, "You can probably just give up now, I can't see you getting in there unless you happened to bring a battering ram."

Jake shrugged casually, "I have 'business' to attend to as well, and I actually have the key. I don't know what your plan was to get past the impenetrable stone door without one, y'know, but I'd be interested to hear it."

His bold proclamation drew a rare laugh from her lips. This boy! What gall! His mother had told him of the temple, no doubt, and the prophecy of its Keeper. Here he was, right on time, to try and overpower the true bearer of the key in feeble hopes of claiming the relic of his own.

She did not vocalize her conclusions. Rather, she drew her bow once more this time with the intent to send a shaft whistling through his heart.

I have no aversion to killing children, she thought shrewdly. He interferes with my plans. He means to stop me. I will cast him aside.

But she saw the silvery threads on his free arm. They were hard to see, as his skin was darker than hers, but they were there. She was a sliver of thought away from releasing the arrow, but something stayed her hand. Something stopped her from killing the boy right then and there.

For the second time, she lowered her bow.

"Where did you get that," she demanded sharply, indicating the boys arm. "A clever tattoo? Doodles from a crazy mystic?"

Jake flinched away from the bow, darting aside to take cover behind the nearest pillar. He didn't doubt that if the woman had fired, it would have been too little and too late, but for whatever reason she held back. He peered back around the pillar with a scowl. "I found it," he said bluntly, "Earlier this year. Make whatever the hell you want to of that."

It was the truth, as bizarre as it sounded. He'd found the markings. "I'm going into that temple, through you or not." Brave words for someone with a sword to the woman's bow and range advantage. He didn't know that there were enough pillars in the world to get him close enough to her to have a fighting chance.

But he had people depending on him. He couldn't just give up.

Either the boy was lying, and he was tremendously stupid, or he was telling the truth, and Ror had miscalculated. The second possibility was impossible, of course. That left only the first.

Ror moved swiftly, deciding to take advantage of Jake's wariness. She stepped back, closer to the temple's slab door. She jerked back her tunic sleeve, baring the silver marks to the sunlight. They winked back at her. She pressed her forearm fully against the stone slab. Nothing happened.

Her hawkish eyes took in the symbols on her arm, and the symbols on the door. There was a second set of runes, of similar phrase length, just below the runes of her own, set in a semi-circle.

"I found it. Earlier this year."

Ror curled her lip.

"There are two keys," she spat.

"Two keys?" Jake made his way cautiously out from behind the pillar now that Ror was focused more on the door than on shooting him. It was then that he saw the markings on her own arm. "... two keys." he repeated, this time no longer as a question. He scowled again, taking a few more wary steps towards the woman and the door.

Closer was always going to be better, when it came down to it, no matter how this ended. "At least that's points in my favour for not being shot..." he muttered, more to himself than to Ror.

But if it took the both of them to open the door....

...well, there was only one relic at the end. Once the door was open, he imagined all bets would be off.

He shook his head, lifting his forearm and striding forwards purposefully. He kept his eyes level with Ror's, watching for her lifting her weapon. Jake came up next to her at the door and pressed his own arm to the runes as if challenging her to stop him.

The markings shimmered, and this time, they weren't just catching the light.

The door gave a groan of stone on stone. Ror stifled a gasp of pain as the silvery threads burned. The slab began to slide forward, revealing a yawning black entrance. Earwigs scurried. The smell of cold air, damp earth, and a musty, gaunt, unpleasantly unidentifiable odor welcomed them as the slab freed itself from the earth and flopped over onto its front, and immediately fragmented and collapsed.

So that left the chasm. Ror could see steps leading downwards. The runes on their arms shone bright enough to act as torches. The ranger narrowed her eyes. She returned her arrow to her quiver. She had no intention of going in first - or letting the boy have any access to her blind spots.

"After you, Chosen One," she motioned Jake forward, voice sickeningly sweet.

"And let you put an arrow in my back?" Jake rubbed at his skin where the threads had flared in heat, narrowing his eyes at the hooded woman. "Not a chance. This staircase is broad enough for the both of us to walk down at once."

He kept his sword in his hand, but it remained held only loosely, without intent to use it. He took a tentative step forwards, pausing only long enough to make sure that Ror was moving too before he settled into a steady pace. He held his glowing arm out to light the way, eyes flickering around.

The stories were clear enough, in a place like this, there were always traps. Holes in the wall, inconsistencies on the stairs, tripwires... there could be anything around to hold a gruesome end. The dank, musty scent of the temple had Jake wrinkling his nose in distaste. It smelled like something had died down here.

To be fair, a lot of things probably had. Bugs, rodents... who knew what else had snuck in here through tiny gaps and expired in the dark. What might have been buried here long ago. The steps led on, and on. It felt like they were descending into the very bowels of the earth.

The light from the entrance became so faint as to be negligible very quickly, and the glowing runes became their only light. A small area of brightness surrounded on all sides by an impenetrable black wall.

"Great atmosphere they've got here..." Jake muttered, gripping his sword uncomfortably.

"I'm not going to kill you, idiot," Ror spoke waspishly, stepping after the youth. "If the door requires two keys to open, you can safely wager the rest of the temple will require our cooperation, as well."

They descended the stairs. Very soon the light from the door above them was only a pinprick. Ror felt the depth of the earth pounding against her ears. She hated the dark. She hated being underground. Being in the dark resulted in a lack of information. One needed information to make informed decisions.

But soon, the stairs leveled out and they found themselves in a wide chamber with a low ceiling. Vines, roots, something of unpleasant texture hung everywhere, quite thick around their faces. Ror slipped through, ignoring the slight chill when the rough, damp material brushed against her neck, her arms, her bare leg.

She found the wall, and ran her hand against it. It was smooth. Too smooth. The stone was not hewn by axes, it was too pure.

"Stay close," the ranger hissed. She turned on her heel, slightly, trying to see through the tendrils to where the other Keeper appeared to be caught. "Stop fussing! Stop fighting. Stay still!"

Jake glared towards the sound of Ror's voice, from where he was not, in fact, caught, but rather attempting to hack his way through the vines instead of slip between them. "Uhg, fine!" he growled, sheathing his sword angrily before lifting his arms to shield his face and pressing forwards with a grimace of disgust.

"Whatever this stuff is, I'm starting to see the appeal of the normal plants outside. I'd rather be hit in the face with a stray leaf than a slimy... rotten... vine thing." Jake grumbled. He barged past Ror, stubbornly shoving through the vines in contrast to Ror's more careful avoidance of excess contact.

And then one of them bit him.

"Ow! What the..." And another, "Argh, night's mercy, what the hell are these things?" he exclaimed, jerking the bitten arm away. In the light, he caught a worrying glimpse of jagged, leech-like teeth. "They're not cursed vines, that's for sure!"

The worm-like creatures dangling from the ceiling began to move. Those closer to the entrance had been dead, decaying, but now they had run into the living nest. Rippling movement traveled through the chamber as they started to writhe, angry hisses echoing from wall to wall. Jake shied backwards away from the thrashing worms, crouching down out of reach. "I don't think walking through is an option anymore." he muttered.