Draven's sharp eyes scanned the cave as the suffocating darkness closed in. The unnatural shadows around him flickered and twisted, growing darker and thicker as they moved. Sylara stood close by, her posture tense, her dagger gleaming faintly in the dim light. The cave walls seemed to close in around them, amplifying the already thick atmosphere of ancient power. This place, this curse—it was nothing like what Draven had expected, and he didn't like it.
"Draven," Sylara's voice, though usually light and teasing, carried a note of genuine concern. "These shadows... they're alive."
