The shard pulsed in Kael's hand, its soft glow the only source of light in the oppressive darkness of the chamber. As the last echoes of the creature's scream faded, a heavy silence settled over them, broken only by the sound of Kael's steady breathing. The air was thick with an unsettling stillness, as if the mountain itself was holding its breath, watching.
Rowan shifted his weight, glancing around the chamber. The cracked walls seemed to draw inward, their ancient runes flickering in response to the shard's presence. "So," he said, his voice low and cautious, "we've got what we came for... I think."
Kael didn't answer immediately. His eyes were fixed on the shard, its glow now flickering rhythmically, like the heartbeat of something ancient, something sleeping. "It's more than just a relic," Kael muttered, turning the shard in his hand. "It's... a key."
Rowan raised an eyebrow. "A key to what?"
