Chapter 10: Whispers of the Wind
The moon hung high above Dawnspire, its pale light spilling over the rooftops and cobblestone streets. A cold wind snaked through the alleys, rustling loose paper and the occasional discarded bottle. Kairos and Erynn stood just outside The Broken Lantern, the warmth of the tavern at their backs as the night stretched before them, thick with mystery and danger.
Erynn's fingers tightened on the hilt of her dagger as she glanced around. "We need to be smarter. If we keep chasing shadows without knowing what we're up against, we'll end up like the others."
"Dead," Kairos said flatly, his voice devoid of humor.
"Exactly."
Kairos sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as if trying to brush away the weight settling on his shoulders. "That's why we need answers. And we're not going to get them by hiding."
"Bold strategy," she muttered, her tone sharp. "Bold isn't the same as smart."
He offered her a crooked grin, the kind that made it hard to tell whether he was reckless or just confident beyond reason. "It's worked so far."
Erynn rolled her eyes. "Barely."
They made their way down the street, the shadows around them stretching long and thin, as if the darkness itself were reaching out. The city was quiet, but the kind of quiet that thrummed with unseen life—windows shuttered, doors locked tight, and behind them, the soft whispers of frightened people who knew better than to speak too loudly after dark.
Kairos' gaze wandered, every flicker of movement drawing his attention. The tension in the air was palpable, a hum that vibrated against his skin. It reminded him of the calm before a storm—a storm that had been hinted at in warnings and cryptic whispers, but one he had yet to fully understand.
"Where do we start?" Erynn asked, her voice pulling him back to the moment.
He thought for a moment. "The ruins."
"The council sealed them," she reminded him. "No one's allowed past the gates."
"Rules are more like suggestions," he replied with a smirk.
"Do you ever take anything seriously?"
Kairos stopped walking, his grin fading as he turned to face her. "I'm serious when it matters."
"And when does it matter?"
He held her gaze for a long moment before answering. "When people are counting on me. When it's life or death."
Erynn studied him, searching his face for something—perhaps sincerity, perhaps understanding. Whatever she saw seemed to satisfy her, for she nodded. "Then we'll need a way past the guards."
They continued down the street, their steps soft against the cobblestones. The ruins lay on the eastern edge of the city, just beyond the old market district where crumbling buildings stood as monuments to a time long forgotten. The council had sealed it off years ago, citing danger from unstable structures and ancient traps. But the stories—the real stories—spoke of something far worse.
As they neared the market, the air grew colder. A shiver crawled up Kairos' spine, and he pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. Erynn glanced at him, her own breath misting in the frigid air.
"Feel that?" she whispered.
He nodded. "Like ice under the skin."
The market was deserted, its stalls empty and covered in dust. Broken carts leaned against crumbling walls, their wheels cracked and useless. Faded banners hung limp, their colors long since drained by time and weather.
In the distance, the ruins loomed. Once a grand temple, it was now little more than a jagged skeleton of stone and shadow. Its columns, worn smooth by centuries of wind and rain, jutted into the sky like broken fingers clawing at the moon. A massive gate blocked the entrance, reinforced with iron bars and thick chains.
"Looks sturdy," Erynn muttered.
Kairos smiled. "Good thing I brought my charm."
She arched a brow. "You think you can talk a lock into opening?"
He knelt by the gate, pulling a small pouch from his belt. "Locks are like people. They have weaknesses. You just have to find them."
Erynn watched as he worked, his fingers deftly manipulating a set of thin tools. The soft click of metal against metal filled the silence. She scanned their surroundings, her eyes sharp and watchful.
"Any movement?" he asked without looking up.
"Nothing," she replied. "Too quiet, though."
The final pin gave way with a satisfying click. Kairos grinned, pushing the gate open just enough for them to slip inside.
"After you," he whispered.
Erynn hesitated, her eyes narrowing as she peered into the darkness beyond. "If something eats me, I'm haunting you."
"I'd expect nothing less."
They moved cautiously into the ruins, the shadows thickening around them like a living thing. The wind howled through the broken arches, a mournful sound that seemed to carry voices from another time.
"Why is it always wind?" Kairos muttered. "Couldn't it be something less ominous? Like cheerful birdsong?"
"Because cheerful birdsong doesn't make people disappear," Erynn whispered.
The ground beneath their feet was uneven, strewn with rubble and overgrown with creeping vines. Strange symbols were etched into the stone walls—worn and faded, but still faintly glowing with a dull, bluish light.
"What language is that?" Erynn asked, running her fingers lightly over the carvings.
Kairos shook his head. "Older than anything I've seen."
They moved deeper into the ruins, their footsteps eerily muffled. The air grew colder with each step, until it felt as if they were walking through ice. A sense of wrongness pressed against them, heavy and suffocating.
Then, without warning, the wind stopped.
Kairos froze, his heart pounding. The silence was absolute—no rustling leaves, no distant echoes, nothing. He reached for his sword, drawing it slowly.
"Kairos," Erynn whispered, her voice tight with fear.
"I know," he breathed.
From the shadows ahead, something stirred.