The wind howled across the cracked ridges near Emberwatch, carrying the ash-stained scent of ancient fire. Kael tightened his cloak, eyes narrowing as the crimson glow of the Emberline shimmered faintly along the horizon. Somewhere beneath that fiery curtain lay a secret long buried—a breach hidden in plain sight.
Selene approached quietly, her boots crunching softly on loose gravel. "The Emberline Barrier's close now," she said, her voice low, like she feared it might hear.
Kael gave a faint nod. "I can feel it… buzzing under my skin."
"Same," Riven muttered, scanning the ravine with narrowed eyes. "There. Beneath that outcrop. See the glyphs?"
Nyra crouched near the stone, brushing away layers of dust and soot. Faint runes shimmered, etched deep in ancient tongues—one Kael vaguely recognized from his studies under the Obsidian Keep.
"It's warded," she confirmed. "Old magic. Binding and masking both."
Riven stepped forward, resting a hand on the stone surface. "I can unravel this… slowly."
Selene placed a calming hand on Kael's arm. "You sure about this path?"
"No," Kael admitted. "But it's the only one left."
Riven whispered a short incantation. Light pulsed through the stone, and with a grinding moan, the hidden passage cracked open. A gust of cold, metallic air rolled out, laced with something older than rot—memory.
They descended slowly into the darkness.
The tunnel walls pulsed faintly with residual magic, casting a dull amber hue. The air grew heavier with every step. Symbols flickered faintly across the floor—some familiar, others unnervingly alien.
"This isn't a passage," Nyra murmured, eyes scanning the corridor. "It's a trial. Someone wanted to keep us out… or something in."
Suddenly, the walls shimmered. A false echo rang out, and illusionary flames burst into view—searing hot but intangible. Selene cried out and raised a ward, but the flames didn't burn. They whispered.
Turn back...
Kael pushed forward, gritting his teeth. "Ignore them. It's a fear-weave."
Riven faltered and accidentally triggered a sigil embedded in the floor. The hallway convulsed. Stone hands surged from the ground, grasping wildly.
Kael thrust out a hand, shouting, "Eidon's veil!" A barrier shimmered around the group, holding the hands at bay just long enough for them to sprint through the collapsing corridor.
As the last echo faded, they found themselves before a sealed door carved with unfamiliar sigils—pulsing gently, like a heartbeat.
Kael stepped forward, something tugging at the edge of his mind. As he placed a hand on the door, pain lanced through his palm. His vision blurred.
He stood in a scorched landscape.
Skies bled crimson. Towers of light shattered into smoke. He saw himself—older, hardened, eyes hollow. Behind him stood Selene, bloodied blade in hand, face unreadable.
In the distance, a winged silhouette rose against the burning sky—massive, serpentine, crowned in black flame.
Kael gasped, staggering back.
Selene caught him. "Kael—what did you see?"
He looked at his hand. A symbol, still smoldering, had burned itself into his skin—a crescent intertwined with a spire.
"A future," he whispered. "Or a warning."
Riven, breathless, looked between them. "What the hell was that thing?"
Kael didn't answer. He couldn't. But the mark on his hand pulsed like a second heartbeat—and something inside him whispered: The end has already begun.