Azarion and Sera trekked deeper into the forest, each step bringing them closer to the edge of the known world—and further into the unknown. The dense canopy above made it difficult to tell day from night, leaving them in a perpetual twilight that only added to the eerie stillness.
The golden crystal pulsed faintly in its pouch, a steady rhythm that seemed to guide Azarion's steps. It was as if the artifact had a will of its own, subtly influencing their direction.
"We've been walking for hours," Sera muttered, her voice laced with irritation. "Are you sure this 'Aetherium Archive' isn't just some bedtime story for dreamers?"
Azarion glanced back at her, his expression calm but resolute. "The Archive exists. The stories may be exaggerated, but there's truth in them. We don't have another choice, Sera. If we want answers about the crystal—and the Abyss—we have to find it."
Sera sighed, but she didn't argue further. She knew better than to question Azarion's determination, especially when the stakes were this high.
As they pressed on, the terrain began to change. The forest floor, once soft and earthy, became rocky and uneven. Strange, glowing plants dotted the landscape, casting an ethereal light that seemed unnatural yet beautiful.
"This isn't normal," Sera said, her daggers drawn as she scanned the area. "We're not in the Verdant Expanse anymore."
Azarion nodded, gripping the hilt of his sword. "We must be close to the borderlands. Beyond this point, few have ventured and returned."
The crystal's pulsing grew stronger, its glow seeping through the fabric of the pouch. Azarion frowned as he pulled it out, the light now almost blinding.
"What's happening?" Sera asked, shielding her eyes.
Before Azarion could respond, the ground beneath them began to tremble. A low, resonant hum filled the air, followed by the distant sound of stone grinding against stone.
"Get ready!" Azarion shouted, his sword igniting with light.
The forest around them seemed to come alive as shadowy figures emerged from the trees. Unlike the shadowspawn they had fought before, these creatures were more defined—humanoid in shape but with distorted features and glowing red eyes. Their movements were jerky and unnatural, as if they were marionettes controlled by an unseen force.
"More messengers?" Sera asked, her voice steady despite the danger.
"Doubtful," Azarion replied, stepping in front of her. "These are soldiers."
The first creature lunged at them, its claws aimed for Azarion's chest. He sidestepped the attack and countered with a swift slash of his blade, the light searing through the shadowy form. The creature let out a piercing screech before dissolving into black smoke.
Sera moved with precision and grace, her daggers flashing as she took down two more of the creatures. "There's too many!" she shouted, her back against Azarion's.
The shadows swarmed them, their numbers seemingly endless. For every one they cut down, two more took its place.
Azarion clenched his jaw, the crystal's glow intensifying in his hand. "We don't have time for this," he said, raising the artifact above his head.
The crystal pulsed once, twice, and then unleashed a wave of golden light that spread out in all directions. The shadowy creatures froze in place, their forms flickering before they disintegrated into nothingness.
The forest fell silent once more, the oppressive atmosphere lifting slightly.
Sera lowered her daggers, breathing heavily. "What the hell was that?"
"The crystal," Azarion said, his voice tinged with awe. "It's… protecting us."
Sera raised an eyebrow. "Or it's using us to achieve its own goals."
Azarion didn't respond. He couldn't shake the feeling that Sera might be right.
As they continued their journey, the landscape grew even stranger. The trees became twisted and gnarled, their bark resembling petrified stone. The air felt heavier, charged with an unfamiliar energy that made Azarion's skin tingle.
Finally, they reached the edge of a massive chasm. A narrow stone bridge stretched across the void, leading to a towering structure in the distance. The building was unlike anything Azarion had ever seen—its architecture a blend of ancient and otherworldly, with spires that seemed to pierce the sky.
"The Aetherium Archive," Azarion whispered, his eyes wide.
Sera let out a low whistle. "Well, I'll be damned. It's real."
But their relief was short-lived. A deep, guttural roar echoed from the chasm below, followed by the sound of massive wings beating against the air.
Azarion and Sera exchanged a glance, their weapons at the ready.
"Looks like we're not the only ones seeking the Archive," Sera said, a wry smile on her lips.
Azarion nodded, his grip on his sword tightening. "Then we'd better make sure we reach it first."