The torchlight flickered erratically against the damp cavern walls as Commander Goran's blade hovered inches from Kael's throat. The musty air smelled of sweat and iron, thick with tension. Around them, the rhythmic clink of pickaxes had ceased as miners turned to watch the confrontation.
Kael kept his breathing steady, his calloused fingers brushing against the hidden dagger in his sleeve. One wrong move and this would turn bloody.
"Last chance, stranger," Goran growled, his breath reeking of cheap ale. "Who sent you?"
Before Kael could respond, a familiar voice cut through the tension.
"Stand down, Goran."
Commander Dravik, his silver-streaked beard glinting in the torchlight, pushed through the gathered miners. His heavy boots crunched against loose stone as he approached.
Goran didn't lower his sword. "This rat was snooping near the restricted tunnels."
Dravik sighed, the sound weary. "Because I assigned him to ore inventory. Need I remind you who oversees security protocols here?"
The two commanders locked eyes in a silent battle of wills. Kael watched carefully, ready to strike if this turned against him.
Finally, Goran snarled and sheathed his blade. "Fine. But he's your responsibility." He jabbed a thick finger at Kael. "One wrong step and I'll feed you to the cave bears."
As Goran stormed off, Dravik turned to Kael, his expression unreadable. "You're either very lucky or very stupid."
Kael shrugged. "Been called both."
The descent to the egg chamber took them through winding tunnels that grew warmer with each step. The walls shimmered with veins of luminescent crystal, casting an eerie blue glow.
"Why help me back there?" Kael asked, his voice low.
Dravik didn't look back. "Let's just say I recognize a man who's seen real battle. The Blackscale Syndicate is always looking for competent fighters. What's your name?"
"Jorik, sir" Kael's eyes narrowed. "The Emperor's men would pay a fortune to know about this operation."
Dravik barked a laugh. "The Emperor? He hasn't the faintest clue what we're doing here. This is our enterprise."
They reached a massive iron door guarded by two hulking brutes. Dravik nodded to them.
"Open it."
The door groaned open, revealing a circular chamber that took Kael's breath away. Five pedestals stood in a pentagram formation, each holding a dragon egg that pulsed with inner light.
"Gods above..." Kael whispered.
Dravik chuckled. "Quite the sight, isn't it? That purple one there - we call it the Stormborn. The black? Nightshade. The green's Verdant, brown is Earthshaker, and the golden..."
"The Sun King," Kael finished, drawn to the gleaming golden egg like a moth to flame.
A sharp voice interrupted. "You were not cleared to bring outsiders here, Commander."
An elderly mage emerged from the shadows, his crimson robes embroidered with silver runes. His milky white eyes studied Kael with unsettling intensity.
Dravik crossed his arms. "This is Jorik, our new quartermaster. He needs to verify orb inventory."
The mage - Master Velyn - scowled. "The orbs are none of his concern."
"With all due respect," Kael interjected, adopting a humble tone, "if I'm to account for supplies, I need to see where they're being used."
Velyn's wrinkled face twisted in displeasure, but he waved a bony hand. "Make it quick."
As Kael placed the glowing orbs near each egg, he studied the mages' work. Strange symbols had been carved into the stone floor, connecting the eggs in an intricate pattern.
"Why isn't it working?" a younger mage whispered nearby.
Velyn slammed his staff against the ground. "The shells are impervious to our magic! Centuries of dormancy have made them resistant."
Kael pretended to examine the golden egg while eavesdropping. Up close, he could see faint cracks in its surface - hairline fractures that shimmered like liquid metal.
"Perhaps the orbs need more time," Dravik suggested.
Velyn rounded on him. "Time is a luxury we don't have! The Benefactor expects results by the new moon."
Kael's fingers twitched toward the egg. "The Benefactor?"
Dravik shot him a warning look. "The one who funds this operation. That's all you need to know."
As they left, Kael cast one last glance at the eggs. The golden one pulsed faintly, as if sensing his presence.
The miners' quarters were little more than a cavern filled with bedrolls and the stench of unwashed men. Kael settled against the wall, sharpening his dagger as the others talked.
"My little girl turned six last week," a grizzled miner said, showing a crude drawing. "Wife says she won't stop asking when I'm coming home."
A younger recruit chuckled bitterly. "My father's sick. This job's the only way to pay for his medicine."
Kael kept silent, but their words stirred memories he'd long buried - his daughter's laughter, his wife's smile, the way their cottage smelled of fresh herbs...
"What about you, Jorik?" the miner asked. "What brings a man like you to this hellhole?"
Kael's grip tightened on his dagger. "Gold. Same as everyone."
The men laughed, but their eyes held understanding. In this world, everyone had their price, their reason for risking life and limb.
As the lanterns dimmed, Kael stared at the cavern ceiling. The golden egg's pulsing light haunted his thoughts. Maybe, just maybe, this was his chance to leave the past behind.
But first, he needed a plan.