The small cabin was silent except for the occasional creak of the wood and the soft rustle of parchment as Elena flipped through the ancient scrolls. The dim light from the lantern cast long shadows on the walls, adding to the sense of isolation that clung to the air. Outside, the forest remained eerily still, as though the world itself was holding its breath.
Amon sat across from her, his eyes distant, reflecting the weight of the centuries that bore down on him. The artifact lay between them, dormant for now, its strange and dangerous power hidden beneath its cold, dark exterior. But Amon could feel it—the energy that still lingered, the promise of something far greater than they yet understood.
Elena frowned, her brow furrowed as she carefully unfolded another brittle piece of parchment. "These texts... they're older than anything I've ever seen. The language is unlike anything I've studied before."
Amon leaned forward, his gaze intense. "Can you read it?"
Elena shook her head slowly. "Not fully. It's similar to ancient Sumerian, but there are differences—subtle ones. I can pick out fragments, but it's like trying to translate a language with missing pieces."
She paused, running her fingers along the faded symbols, trying to make sense of the strange markings. "This civilization… it predates anything recorded in human history. They were trying to harness power from beyond our world, Amon. But they weren't foolish about it. They knew how dangerous it was."
Amon's jaw clenched. "And yet, they still created these artifacts."
"Yes," Elena replied softly. "But not for conquest. It seems they believed this power could be used to maintain balance—to preserve something, or perhaps prevent something far worse."
Amon nodded, understanding the gravity of what she was saying. Throughout history, there had always been those who sought power to protect and those who sought it to dominate. The fine line between those two paths had been blurred by every civilization, and the ancient society that created this artifact seemed no different.
"What else can you make out?" Amon asked, his voice calm but laced with urgency.
Elena hesitated, glancing down at the scroll again. "There's something about guardians. They were chosen—specifically selected to protect these artifacts. It mentions trials, sacred oaths, and rituals. But the text is fragmented, and some parts are completely illegible."
"Guardians…" Amon murmured. The idea gnawed at him. If these guardians had once existed, where were they now? And why had they failed to prevent Malakai from coming so close to unleashing the artifact's power?
Elena sighed, sitting back in her chair. "This is only the beginning. There's so much more we don't know. But one thing is clear—the artifact was meant to be hidden, not used. Whatever power it holds, it's not for us."
Amon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Malakai must have found something—some clue that led him to the artifact. If he was able to track it down, others will follow. We can't just hide it again. We need to understand how to neutralize it."
Elena nodded in agreement. "That's the problem. The text hints at a way to deactivate or neutralize the artifact, but without a full translation, we're in the dark. If we could find more pieces of this puzzle—more texts, perhaps even records from other civilizations that encountered the same forces…"
"Then we'd have a chance," Amon finished.
He stood up, pacing the small room, the weight of his immortal existence pressing on him like never before. In all his centuries of wandering the earth, he had always managed to avoid getting tangled in the web of human affairs. But now, it seemed he had no choice. This was bigger than him, bigger than anything he had ever encountered.
"What about Malakai?" Elena asked, watching him carefully. "He'll come for the artifact again. He won't stop until he has what he wants."
Amon stopped pacing, his eyes narrowing. "We need to find him before he finds us. The longer we wait, the more powerful he'll become."
Elena leaned forward, her expression resolute. "Then we go after him. We track down his followers, gather information, and figure out his next move."
Amon nodded. "But we can't do it alone. We'll need help—people we can trust. And those are in short supply."
Elena smirked faintly. "You've lived long enough to know where to find the right allies."
Amon allowed himself a rare smile. "Perhaps. But it's a dangerous game we're playing. Anyone who gets involved could be putting themselves at risk."
"That's a risk we'll have to take," Elena said, her voice firm.
Amon sat down again, the fire in his eyes rekindling. "We start by heading east. There's an old contact of mine—someone who specializes in ancient texts and relics. If anyone can help us translate these scrolls and make sense of the artifact, it's him."
Elena raised an eyebrow. "Old contact? How old are we talking?"
Amon chuckled softly. "Let's just say he's been in the business for a long time. And he's one of the few people who might actually believe our story."
Elena leaned back in her chair, a sense of determination settling over her. "Then let's get moving. The longer we wait, the more time Malakai has to regroup."
As they packed their things and prepared to leave the cabin, Amon couldn't shake the feeling that they were stepping into something far more dangerous than they realized. The forces they were dealing with—the ancient powers buried deep in the earth—were not meant to be trifled with. And yet, here they were, carrying a piece of that power with them.
The drive east was long and uneventful. The further they traveled, the more distant the weight of the Sanctum felt. But it never fully left them. The artifact remained in the back seat, wrapped in layers of protection, but its presence was undeniable. It was as though it was watching them, waiting for the right moment to awaken.
Amon's contact lived in a remote village nestled deep in the mountains, a place where few dared to venture. As they approached the village, the air grew colder, and the trees loomed larger, casting long shadows over the narrow roads.
"This is it," Amon said as they pulled up to a small, weathered cottage at the edge of the village.
Elena glanced at the cottage, then back at Amon. "You sure this guy can help us?"
Amon smiled grimly. "If anyone can, it's him."
They stepped out of the vehicle and approached the cottage, the wind biting at their faces. Amon knocked on the door, the sound echoing in the stillness of the mountains.
After a moment, the door creaked open, revealing an older man with a long, graying beard and sharp, intelligent eyes. He took one look at Amon and nodded, as though he had been expecting him.
"Amon," the man said in a gravelly voice. "It's been a long time."
Amon nodded. "It has. And I wish I was here under better circumstances."
The man's eyes flicked to Elena, then to the artifact wrapped in cloth. His expression darkened. "Come inside. We have much to discuss."
As they stepped into the warmth of the cottage, Amon couldn't shake the feeling that they had just crossed a threshold—one that would take them deeper into the mysteries of the ancient world, and perhaps, closer to the truth of what was really at stake.