The moon hung high in the sky, casting eerie shadows through the dense canopy of the forest. The path, seldom trodden by humans, was thick with twisted vines and overgrown roots that seemed to crawl out of the ground, yearning to entangle any who dared to pass.
The air was cold, with a sharpness that sent shivers down the spine. Not many dared venture this far, and those who did… never returned the same.
A hooded figure, his movements deliberate and quiet, wound his way through the trees with ease. He moved with the confidence of someone who had walked this path countless times, slipping through the forest like a shadow.
His face was hidden beneath the hood, though the sharpness in his eyes gleamed through, betraying a predator's hunger. He had seen her—the girl with the haunted eyes—wandering too close to the edge of the temple's truth, and the encounter unsettled him. But that wasn't his task. Not yet.
Before him, the forest began to thin, revealing a clearing where the ground opened into a steep, craggy slope. At its heart was a yawning chasm, and at the bottom, sealed in layers of magic older than the forest itself, was the prison of his lord : The Ancient Devil.
The figure approached the chasm cautiously, glancing around to ensure he hadn't been followed. The wind picked up, and with it came the faintest scent of decay—a signature of the imprisoned being below. He knelt by the edge of the chasm, his voice no more than a breath in the stillness.
"My Lord," he whispered. "I have returned with news."
From the depths of the chasm came an overwhelming presence, a dark force that pressed against the air like the weight of the sea. It was a power both ancient and malevolent, promising destruction with every pulse.
The air grew colder still, and a voice, low and laced with venom, echoed up from the abyss.
"Speak," The being called "Lord" commanded. His voice was smooth, with a dark charm that sent a chill down the spine. He was the kind of being who could whisper sweet promises while twisting the knife into your back. His very nature demanded suffering, chaos, and control—such was the legacy of his kind.
The hooded figure trembled slightly but quickly regained composure. "There is movement within the Order, my lord. I followed your instructions and investigated the rumors you spoke of. Their leaders grow desperate. They are meddling with forbidden scrolls—ones that do not belong to them."
The Lord was silent for a moment, his presence thrumming against the magical binds that held him. The coldness deepened, and a soft, almost amused chuckle echoed from the abyss.
"Ah… the fools. Always scrambling for more power, always meddling with what they cannot hope to control," The Lord drawled, his voice dripping with disdain. "But it doesn't matter. They will soon regret awakening the storm they cannot withstand."
"My lord," the subordinate continued cautiously, "there was also a girl. A young one. She has seen too much… but she is not aligned with the Order. She wanders the edge of their world, though unaware of the full extent of the darkness."
The Lord's voice grew sharper. "A girl? And she ventures near their secrets?"
"She does. But I believe she is searching for something, my lord. She may yet prove useful, though she remains unaware of the depth she dances upon."
The Lord was silent for a moment, considering. The weight of his presence pressed down, leaving the subordinate breathless for a moment. Finally, The Lord spoke, his tone now one of calculation.
"Interesting. Perhaps there is more to this girl than meets the eye. If she continues to cross paths with the Order's affairs, we may find ourselves a pawn… or perhaps something more useful. Watch her closely. But do not act… yet. I will decide her fate soon enough."
The subordinate bowed low. "Yes, my lord."
The Lord's voice grew darker, a thread of amusement curling in his words. "And the Order… they dare to use what belongs to me? They will pay for their arrogance soon enough."
"My lord, shall I—"
"No," The Lord interrupted, his voice turning cold and final. "Let them stumble further into their own downfall. Their greed will be their undoing. I will savor their destruction when the time comes. But for now, we wait."
With a wave of his hand, the subordinate rose to his feet. As he turned to leave, the oppressive weight of The Lord's presence lightened slightly, though the coldness remained.
"And remember this," The Lord added, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with the threat of violence, "do not fail me again. I have little patience for incompetence."
The subordinate nodded quickly, disappearing back into the forest as silently as he had come, leaving the chasm and the ancient darkness it housed behind.
Within the confines of his prison, The Lord's cold, calculating mind turned over the new information. The girl, the Order, and their desperate grasp for power—these were all pieces in a grand game he had played long before they even knew of his existence.
Soon, very soon, they would all remember why they feared the dark.