The group moved deeper into the Keep, following the map etched into their minds. The air grew colder with each step, and the oppressive weight of the Keep's ancient magic pressed down on them, as if testing their resolve. The corridors were narrower now, the walls rougher, carved from darker stone that seemed to absorb the light from their torches.
Elara led the way, her senses alert, every nerve on edge. They had left behind the familiar parts of the Keep, entering an area that felt more like a forgotten tomb than a fortress. The walls were etched with runes and symbols, older and more complex than anything they had encountered before. The power they held was palpable, vibrating beneath her fingertips as she brushed against the stone.
"We're getting close," Lyra whispered, her voice barely audible over the steady drip of water echoing through the corridors. "I can feel it. The magic here is… different. It's stronger, but also more chaotic."
