The temple stood like a wound on the horizon, jagged spires clawing at ashen skies. Seraphine and her companions approached it with awe and fear, crunching against dead ground with the quiet of their footsteps. Malice hung about the structure, dark stone walls pulsing faintly, as if the temple were alive.
"Are we sure this is the place?" Garin asked softly.
No mistake about it," Elara said, her eye fixed on the towering structure. "The temple corresponds exactly with the map. The seals were cast here."
"And where they will be broken," Seraphine finished, her voice somber.
As they approached, the ground beneath their feet began to ruffle like the surface of a pond when a stone has hit it. A faint vibration hummed in the air, growing louder with each step.
What is that?" one of the warriors muttered, holding on to his sword.
"The temple is warded," Elara said. "It doesn't want us here."
Too bad, Seraphine said, gripping her sword hard. "We didn't come this far to turn back.".
The entrance to the temple was an enormous archway, its surface carved up in elaborate runes that seemed to writhe and twist when you looked from the corner of your eye. In front of it stood a pair of heavy stone doors, open only enough to show darkness beyond.
Seraphine stepped forward, her heart pounding. "Stay close," she instructed, glancing over her shoulder at her companions. "And stay alert. Whatever's in there, it won't let us pass easily."
Inside, the air was cold and depressing with the heavy smell of decay. Evenly engraved upon the walls were row upon row of runes, casting a faint, dark red light for they alone illuminated this place of darkness. Deeper in the ruin, the whispers returned, louder and more strident.
You do not belong here, they hissed. Turn back before it is too late.
"We're not listening to you," Seraphine muttered under her breath, though the whispers tugged at her resolve.
The first room they entered was enormous and round, its floor covered in a mosaic depicting a great battle between light and shadow. At the center of the room stood a pedestal, upon which rested a strange artifact—a black orb encased in a lattice of golden light.
"What is it?" Garin asked warily, looking at the orb.
"It's a piece of the seals," Elara said, moving forward. "Or maybe a tool to make them."
As she reached out to take the orb, the runes on the walls ignited, and the ground rumbled beneath them. Shadows spilled forth from the stone cracks, taking humanoid shape.
"Get ready!" Seraphine yelled, drawing her sword.
Shadows charged with ferocity, their claws raking through the air. Seraphine stood firm in their way, blade shining with magical energies as it sliced through shapes of dark shadowing. Garin shot arrow after arrow, while Elara guided shields to protect their ranks.
The battle was explosive, with clashing steel and unearthly screams filling the room. But the warriors held their ground, fighting with a determination born from desperation.
And finally, the last shadow changed form and disappeared into smoke, and the chamber was silent again.
"That's a warning," Elara whispered fearfully in the silence, her voice trembling. "The temple knows that we're here."
"That's good," Seraphine replied, wiping away sweat from her brow. "Let it know we are not leaving.".
The gang strode their way through corridors and chambers, becoming more diabolical with each step. In one chamber, they came up on a pool of black liquid before them, which seemed to be promising them power and salvation. Garin could not resist the call and drew forward far enough to be sucked toward it and almost swallowed in its grip when Seraphine dragged him back.
"Don't listen to it," she cautioned, her voice strict. "It's trying to trick us."
In another room, they were subjected to a series of trials that would test their determination. One trial made them see visions of their worst fears—a vision so real that they came out shaken and pale.
The illusion to Seraphine was an image of the fallen comrades with open lifeless eyes accusing her of their death. She warred the vision all inside her, reminding her that this is not real.
It was there that the last bits of energy had been spent, arriving at the heart of the temple; their spirits were frayed. The main chamber was something they had never seen before-a cavernous space with towering columns of black crystal that seemed to throb and pulse with a dark, pulsing light. In the centre of the room, a huge altar held sway, upon which lay an ancient tome bound in black leather and inscribed with glowing runes.
This has to be it," she whispered, her voice hard to make out. "The knowledge we need to defeat the Shadow King."
As she reached for the book, the earth convulsed violently, and there stepped out of the shadows an enormous, armored creature wreathed in dark energy. His eyes flared with crimson light, and his voice boomed like thunder.
"You dare profane this holy ground?" it roared, its voice laced with malice. "You will not leave this place alive."
The party readied themselves. Seraphine charged at the creature, her sword shining bright, but the thing was quick, impossibly fluid for one its size. It met her strikes with ease, its own blade crackling with dark magic.
Garin and the rest of the warriors leapt into it from afar, arrows and spells flying across the air, but the creature just swished its blade to deflect them.
"It's too strong!" Elara shouted while casting a healing spell on one of the wounded warriors.
"We've faced worse," Seraphine said although her arms were throbbing from the effort of holding her ground. "Let's zero in on its weak points!"
The battle raged on, and the party fought with every last ounce of strength in their bodies. It was finally Garin's shot at landing a critical hit; his arrow pierced the beast through the shoulder. It howled in pain, and its movements faltered for just a moment before Seraphine struck through.
With a mighty cry, she thrust her sword into the chest of the creature. Light spilled from her blade like a radiated flame as the creature gave one deafening roar before it dissipated completely into smoke.
The room was silent now again, the only sound the ragged breathing of the warriors.
Seraphine stepped forward toward the altar, her hands shaking as she reached to take the tome. The surface was cold under her touch, and the runes writhed beneath her fingers.
"We have what we've come for," she declared, her voice resolute. "Now let's get out of here."
But just as they turned to withdraw from the room, the whispers returned again, louder than ever.
You cannot escape, they taunted. The Shadow King comes for you.
Seraphine ground her teeth, holding the book so close to her chest that she seemed to have almost engulfed it. "Let him come," she whispered. "We'll be ready."