The Prince and the Serpent

Fire and Shadows

Far to the north, the land was dead but the earth itself was very much alive. It was desolate, unforgiving and reeked of brimstone. Bare, rolling hills of black rock stretched to the horizon every direction. The ground shifted and moved with alarming regularity. No landmark was permanent, making navigating this region difficult at best. Depending on conditions, it would shoot water, steam, or even columns of fire far into the sky. The further they traveled, the more colorful and dangerous the land became.

Boruto was, once again, reconsidering their decision to come here as they skirted another reeking pool. This one bubbled and frothed with a thick sticky white substance as it released super-heated gases. Streaks of deadly-looking orange, yellow and white painted the pitch black rocks lining the shallow basins. The crust they trod on varied greatly in thickness and they were in constant danger of breaking through into the scalding geothermal soup below.

Boruto's mind tried to distract itself by traveling back to his anger with Kawaki. The jerk smith had flat out refused to help them. Why Sarada wanted to ask for his help in the first place was baffling to Boruto. It was clear from the start that the jackass had no interest in what happened to them. Boruto personally would rather eat a bowl of nails than accept help from the prick, but it was how he refused Sarada's request the really pissed him off.

"I have no interest in helping you." Kawaki had snarled at Sarada. He was so adamant in his refusal that he actually made eye contact with her. Sarada appeared to be unusually let down by his rejection but that was all. Boruto was in shock. If he had taken that tone with Sarada, it could very well be the last thing he did. A dejected sigh was barely passed her lips when Kawaki decided to speak up again, this time without looking at her, "... However, for the right price... I might be able to make your Prince a suitable weapon."

Why Sarada had agreed so eagerly to Kawaki's offer was beyond him. There were plenty of other smiths in the city. They did not need anything from him. The new sword hung heavily on his back despite its unusually light weight, prickling Boruto further. He'd rather chuck it into one of the open lava pits than keep it.

The sword's superior quality pissed Boruto off even more. All his life, he'd had access to the very best weapons and he had never seen this sword's equal. That fact, and the hefty price Sarada had immediately forked over for the sword, kept it safely strapped to his back. It hadn't done them much good yet. They hadn't encountered anything alive since leaving Laharas and the finest steel didn't go far against living earth.

The map had placed the key in the wilderness to the north of Laharas and the witch had given them the more specific target of the Red Lake. Boruto kept a close eye on the crystal as they traveled, hoping against hope that the witch had been wrong. The growing light confirmed what he already knew; The fire key was indeed in the Red Lake.

They had been traveling for three days now through this northern wasteland of continual rebirth. The air key had continued to crumble steadily, greatly adding to Boruto's worries. Sarada had dutifully saved every precious piece but he wasn't sure anymore what good it was doing. At this rate, they would have nothing but rotted key fragments by the time they made it to the Heart. Assuming they were able to escape from the Red Lake alive.

Each day, every nightmare story he had heard about the cursed lake paraded through his mind. It was said to be a virtual ocean of fire. Supposedly, it was guarded by the most hellish of creatures. The worst of which were the black wraiths. Black, airy clawed beasts that appeared to be made of fire and smoke darker than the obsidian stones they inhabited. They moved as shadows as they stalked their prey. Unearthly shrieks and horrific moans heralded their arrival before they struck from the smooth stones at random.

They hooked their victims with their shining onyx claws and dragged them shrieking into the earth with little more than a smear of blood to mark their exit from this life. There was no defense against the creatures nor was there any way to kill the things that attacked without mercy. All travelers knew the stories well and carefully avoided the cursed land of the Red Lake.