The wind howled through the mountains, carrying with it the echoes of a forgotten age. Aeldor stood before them, a once-glorious city now reduced to crumbling towers and shattered walls. The ruins stretched across the mountainside, draped in mist and shadow, giving it an eerie and foreboding atmosphere. Time had not been kind to the ancient city, and yet, it still held an undeniable allure. This was a place where power had once thrived, and secrets had been guarded for millennia.
Aran reined in his horse as they approached the edge of the ruins. His gaze swept over the broken city, searching for any sign of movement. The Pale King's patrol was somewhere nearby, but they had yet to show themselves. The ruins offered plenty of places to hide, and Aran knew they had to move carefully. One wrong step could alert their enemies.
"We'll need to split up," Aran said quietly, dismounting. His voice was steady, but the tension in his muscles betrayed the weight of his thoughts. "Rina, scout ahead. Look for any sign of the patrol or traps. The rest of us will search for an entrance to the library."
Rina nodded without hesitation, already blending into the shadows before the others could say another word. She moved like a wraith herself, her years as a ranger allowing her to navigate even the most treacherous terrain in silence.
Torin drew his sword, the blade glinting in the fading light. "I've got a bad feeling about this place," he muttered. "It feels…alive."
Alara, standing beside him, shook her head. "Not alive, exactly. But something lingers here. The magic that once flowed through these walls is still present, even if it's only a faint echo. Be careful where you step."
Aran nodded. "Stay sharp. We have no idea what could be waiting for us."
The group moved deeper into the ruins, their senses heightened, eyes scanning every broken column and crumbled building for signs of danger. The silence was unnerving, broken only by the occasional creak of stone settling underfoot or the distant howl of wind through the broken spires.
The ruins of Aeldor were immense, far larger than Aran had anticipated. Once, this had been a city of learning, home to some of the greatest mages in history. But now, it was little more than a graveyard, its history buried beneath centuries of decay.
As they pressed further, they came across a wide courtyard, overgrown with vines and littered with rubble. In the center stood a large, circular platform, half-buried in dirt and debris. Ancient runes were etched into the stone, their faint glow suggesting they still held some remnant of power.
"This must be part of the old teleportation network," Alara said, her voice hushed with awe. "The mages of Aeldor used these platforms to travel across the world instantly. But without the proper incantations, it's useless."
Aran knelt beside the platform, his fingers tracing the faded runes. "If the teleportation system was tied to the library, it's possible there's an entrance nearby."
Torin was already scanning the surrounding buildings, his eyes narrowing as he spotted something unusual. "There," he said, pointing toward a half-collapsed structure at the far end of the courtyard. "That building—it looks intact, but the door is sealed."
Aran followed his gaze and saw the structure Torin was referring to. Unlike the rest of the ruins, this building appeared relatively undisturbed, its entrance blocked by a heavy stone door. Strange symbols were carved into the stone, and the air around it seemed to hum with latent energy.
"That's our way in," Aran said, rising to his feet. "But it won't be easy to open. Alara, can you break the seal?"
Alara stepped forward, studying the door carefully. "The magic is old, but it's strong. I can try, but it will take time."
"Do it," Aran replied. "We'll stand guard."
As Alara began chanting softly, her hands tracing intricate patterns in the air, Aran turned his attention to their surroundings. The weight of the ruins seemed to press down on them, as if the city itself resented their presence. Every sound, every shift of the wind felt like a warning.
Minutes passed, and Aran's tension only grew. He knew the Pale King's patrol was out there, and the longer they stayed in one place, the more likely they were to be found. But there was no other option. They needed to get inside that building.
Suddenly, Rina reappeared from the shadows, her face grim. "The patrol's closer than we thought," she whispered. "They're fanning out across the ruins. If they find us here, we won't have time to escape."
Aran cursed under his breath. "How many?"
"At least ten," Rina said. "Well-armed, and they've got a mage with them."
Aran's mind raced. They were outnumbered and outmatched if it came to a direct confrontation. And with Alara still working on the seal, they couldn't risk moving now.
"We'll have to fight," Torin said, his grip on his sword tightening. "There's no other choice."
Aran shook his head. "Not yet. We don't need to fight them if they don't know we're here."
Rina frowned. "What do you have in mind?"
Aran's eyes flickered toward the shadows cast by the ruins. "A distraction. We lure them away from the entrance long enough for Alara to break the seal. Once we're inside, we'll have the advantage."
Rina nodded, understanding dawning on her face. "I can lead them on a chase through the ruins. Draw them toward the west side while you finish here."
"No," Aran said firmly. "I need you here. I'll be the one to distract them."
Torin's eyes widened in surprise. "You? You're the one they're after."
"Exactly," Aran replied, his voice steady. "They'll chase me harder than anyone else. And I know these ruins well enough to lose them."
Before anyone could argue, Aran was already moving. He disappeared into the shadows, his footsteps silent as he made his way toward the patrol's position.
As he approached, he spotted them—a group of armored soldiers, their faces obscured by helmets, and a robed mage standing in the center, directing their movements. Aran took a deep breath, calming his nerves. He couldn't afford to make a mistake now.
With a quick flick of his wrist, he hurled a small stone toward the patrol, the sound of its impact echoing through the ruins. The soldiers immediately snapped to attention, their weapons drawn as they turned toward the noise.
"Over there!" one of them shouted.
Aran grinned to himself. It was time to lead them on a merry chase.
He darted out of the shadows, just long enough for the patrol to catch sight of him before disappearing again into the maze of ruins. Shouts rang out behind him as the soldiers gave chase, their footsteps thundering across the broken ground.
For the next several minutes, Aran led the patrol deeper into the ruins, staying just out of reach as he weaved through the crumbling buildings and narrow passageways. He could hear the mage barking orders, urging the soldiers to move faster, but Aran knew these ruins better than they did.
As the sound of pursuit grew fainter, Aran slipped into a hidden alcove, his breathing heavy but controlled. He had bought them enough time. Now, it was up to Alara to open the way.
Back at the entrance, Alara's voice rose as she completed the final incantation. The seal on the door shattered with a flash of light, and the heavy stone door slowly creaked open, revealing a dark passage leading into the depths below.
"Let's go," Torin said, already moving toward the entrance.
Rina hesitated, glancing back toward the ruins where Aran had disappeared. "What about Aran?"
"He'll find his way back," Torin said, though there was a note of uncertainty in his voice.
The group entered the passage, the darkness swallowing them whole as the door sealed shut behind them.
Aran, still hidden in the ruins above, allowed himself a small smile. The path to the library was open. Now, the real challenge would begin.