The group stood in the aftermath of their battle, the golden sands now still and quiet. The oppressive heat returned, though it felt almost pleasant compared to the chaotic storm they had just endured. Orin turned the fragment of the shattered artifact in his hands, its faint glow fading away.
"What do you mean someone set this up?" Riven asked, breaking the silence. His fists still glimmered with residual heat, though his tone was more curious than combative.
Orin held the fragment up for all to see. "Look at the markings. These are runes—not natural, not random. This wasn't just a random guardian protecting its territory."
Zaria stepped closer, taking the fragment from Orin and studying it. Her eyes narrowed. "These runes... they're similar to ancient sigils I've read about. But they've been modified, corrupted even. Whoever did this was controlling the Wyrm and using it as a weapon."
"Lovely," Lyra said, brushing sand off her daggers. "So not only are we fighting beasts and storms, but someone's out here setting traps for us?"
"Whoever they are," Nyron said, his voice low and sharp, "they've underestimated us. That Wyrm was powerful, but it wasn't enough to stop us."
Riven smirked. "Damn right. If they want to send another monster, I say bring it on. I'm just getting warmed up."
"We need to stay cautious," Orin interjected. "This wasn't about testing our strength. It was a delay tactic. They wanted to slow us down."
"For what?" Lyra asked, crossing her arms.
Orin shook his head. "I don't know yet. But we can't waste time here."
Zaria glanced at the horizon, her expression thoughtful. "The temple we're looking for—it's not far now. If these traps are meant to stop us, then we're on the right path."
"Then let's move," Orin said, his tone decisive. He sheathed his sword and started walking, his eyes scanning the horizon.
The group followed, their usual banter subdued by the growing tension. Even Riven, who often joked to lighten the mood, seemed unusually focused.
Hours passed as they marched through the endless dunes, the sun sinking lower in the sky. The golden light of sunset bathed the desert, casting long shadows that danced with the shifting sands.
It was Lyra who first noticed something strange. She paused, her sharp eyes narrowing as she scanned the dunes ahead. "Do you hear that?"
The others stopped, straining to listen. At first, there was only the faint whisper of the wind. Then, slowly, a low hum became audible, resonating through the air like a distant song.
"It's coming from ahead," Zaria said, her voice hushed.
"It could be the temple," Nyron said, his hand tightening on his scythe. "Or another trap."
Orin nodded. "Stay on guard. We move together."
As they crested the next dune, the source of the sound came into view. A massive stone structure jutted out of the sand, its surface covered in ancient carvings. The hum grew louder as they approached, the air vibrating with energy.
"This is it," Zaria whispered, awe in her voice. "The Temple of Echoes."
The temple's entrance was a towering archway, flanked by statues of hooded figures holding staffs. The carvings on the walls depicted scenes of battles, rituals, and what appeared to be a massive serpent coiled around a glowing orb.
"Charming place," Riven said, eyeing the statues. "Looks like it hasn't seen visitors in centuries."
"Until now," Lyra said, her daggers already in her hands.
As they stepped closer, the hum shifted into whispers, faint and indistinct. The voices seemed to come from all around, speaking in a language none of them recognized.
"I don't like this," Riven muttered. "Voices coming out of nowhere? That's never a good sign."
"It's not just voices," Zaria said, her eyes glowing faintly as she reached out with her magic. "This place is alive with magic. Old magic. It's... watching us."
"Great," Riven said. "Haunted ruins. Exactly what we needed."
Orin stepped forward, his sword drawn. "Whatever's inside, we face it together. Stay close, and don't let your guard down."
The group entered the temple, the whispers growing louder as they passed through the archway. Inside, the air was cool and still, a stark contrast to the desert heat. The walls were lined with more carvings, their intricate details illuminated by faintly glowing runes.
"Look at this," Zaria said, tracing a finger over one of the carvings. "These runes... they tell a story."
"What kind of story?" Orin asked, keeping his eyes on the darkened corridor ahead.
"A warning," Zaria said, her voice tinged with unease. "This temple was built to contain something. Something powerful."
"Let me guess," Riven said. "Whatever it is, we're about to wake it up."
Before Zaria could respond, the ground beneath them trembled. The whispers grew into a deafening chorus, and the runes on the walls flared with light.
"Everyone, get ready!" Orin shouted, raising his sword.
The air in the corridor shimmered, and from the shadows, figures began to emerge—spectral warriors clad in ancient armor, their eyes glowing with an eerie light. They raised their weapons, their ghostly forms radiating malice.
"Well, this just keeps getting better," Lyra said, her voice laced with sarcasm as she readied her daggers.
"Let's send them back to where they came from," Nyron said, his scythe cutting through the air with a dark, resonant hum.
The spectral warriors charged, their ethereal blades slicing through the air. Orin met the first attack head-on, his sword clashing against a ghostly axe. Sparks of light and shadow erupted from the impact.
"Focus on the runes!" Zaria shouted, her staff glowing as she channeled a spell. "They're the key to dispelling them!"
The group fought fiercely, their movements a blend of precision and power. Riven's flames cut through the spectral warriors, Lyra's speed kept her one step ahead of their attacks, and Nyron's scythe tore through their ghostly forms like smoke.
Amid the chaos, Zaria's magic flared, targeting the glowing runes on the walls. One by one, the runes dimmed, and with each extinguished light, the spectral warriors grew weaker.
"Almost there!" Zaria called out, her voice strained from the effort.
With a final surge of power, Zaria unleashed a wave of magic that shattered the remaining runes. The spectral warriors let out a collective wail before fading into nothingness, leaving the temple eerily silent once more.
Panting, the group regrouped, their weapons still drawn.
"Is it over?" Lyra asked, glancing around.
"For now," Orin said, his grip on his sword relaxing. He turned to Zaria. "What's next?"
Zaria looked ahead, her eyes fixed on a massive door at the end of the corridor. "Whatever the temple is guarding... it's behind that door."