The ruins of Veylorn stood before them, a crumbled skeleton of its former grandeur. What had once been a city of knowledge and power now lay in ruins, abandoned by time and forgotten by history. Broken stone spires reached for the blood-red sky, their jagged edges scraping the heavens like silent, skeletal fingers.
Kael and Sylara moved through the ruins cautiously, their footsteps echoing in the silence. The air was thick with the remnants of ancient magic—tainted, yet still potent. There was no telling what they might find here, or what might be watching them from the shadows.
The scholar's dwelling was a small, haphazard structure nestled within the wreckage of what had once been a grand library. The building was little more than a heap of stone and wood, but Kael could sense the faint, lingering pulse of magic within. It had been altered, twisted to serve a purpose long forgotten.
As they approached, the door creaked open, revealing the scholar seated at a cluttered table, his pale eyes staring up at them with an unsettling intensity.
"You've come," he said flatly, his voice as dry as the ruins surrounding them.
Kael's hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword, but he resisted. There was something about the scholar's presence that set his nerves on edge—an air of both knowledge and danger.
"Are you the one known as Ralen?" Sylara asked, stepping forward, her voice steady despite the tension in the air.
Ralen nodded slowly, his sharp gaze never leaving them. "I am. And I know why you've come."
Kael didn't trust the scholar's calm demeanor. There was something too practiced in it, as if he had been waiting for them—or for someone like them—to arrive.
"We need information," Kael said bluntly. "About the Nithralis."
Ralen's lips twitched in something akin to amusement, but his eyes remained cold. "Ah, the Nithralis. It seems its influence has spread further than I had anticipated."
He rose from his seat, moving with surprising speed for a man of his age. His long, bony fingers began sifting through the piles of scrolls and ancient texts that littered the table. Finally, he pulled out a large, weathered tome and set it before them.
"The Nithralis is not merely a creature or a force," Ralen said, his voice taking on a dark, serious tone. "It is an ancient power—one that predates even the earliest civilizations of this world."
Kael and Sylara exchanged a glance, both sensing the weight of his words.
"Tell us everything," Sylara pressed, her voice urgent.
Ralen opened the tome, revealing pages filled with cryptic symbols and sketches of monstrous beings. "The Nithralis is a corruption, a disease of the soul that spreads from one living being to another, devouring everything it touches. It is both a curse and a contagion, carried by those who make pacts with it."
Kael's frown deepened. "A pact?"
Ralen nodded. "A pact forged in blood, magic, and despair. It binds the souls of the willing and the unwilling alike. Once the bond is made, it cannot be broken, and the corruption will continue to spread, infecting the very land itself."
"And what happens to the one who makes the pact?" Sylara asked.
"They become its vessel," Ralen replied, his voice tinged with distaste. "They are no longer in control of their own fate. They become a servant to the Nithralis, a puppet for its will. But… the pact is not one-sided."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"
Ralen's gaze flicked to Kael, an unsettling gleam in his eyes. "The one who binds themselves to the Nithralis becomes a conduit of its power, but they also gain something in return: unimaginable strength, the ability to bend reality to their will, and the promise of immortality."
Kael's mind raced. "Nightshade—he was one of these vessels."
Ralen nodded grimly. "Yes. Nightshade was one of the first, a willing participant in the ancient rituals that birthed the Nithralis. But even he was not prepared for the price of the pact."
"The price?" Sylara asked, leaning in.
Ralen's lips curled into a faint, almost bitter smile. "The Nithralis is not a force that can be controlled. It devours those who try to use it, stripping them of their humanity until all that remains is an empty shell—a vessel for the Nithralis itself."
Kael clenched his fists, the anger rising within him. "And the people he controls—the ones in the Wasting Expanse…?"
"They are the unfortunate souls who made the pact with the Nithralis," Ralen answered. "Those who sought power or immortality and were consumed by it. They are bound to the corruption, their bodies turned into mindless husks, driven only by the will of the Nithralis."
Sylara shuddered. "So, what can we do? Is there a way to stop it?"
Ralen fell silent for a moment, as if weighing the decision in his mind. "There is a way," he said finally, "but it is not without its consequences. To sever the Nithralis from the world, to destroy it completely, you must find the Heart of the Nithralis—the source of its power."
"The Heart?" Kael asked.
Ralen nodded. "Yes. It lies at the heart of the Wasting Expanse, in the ruins of an ancient city. It is there that the Nithralis was first born, and it is there that its power is strongest."
Kael felt a cold shiver run down his spine. "And how do we destroy it?"
"You must use the Oathbreaker Blade," Ralen said, his voice heavy with foreboding. "It is the only weapon capable of severing the bond between the Nithralis and the world. But it is a cursed blade, forged with blood and sorrow. To wield it is to invite its darkness into your soul."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "And where do we find this blade?"
Ralen's gaze became distant. "It is hidden, lost to time and the winds of fate. But I can help you find it." He paused, a dark smile curling on his lips. "For a price."
Kael's heart skipped a beat. "What kind of price?"
Ralen looked at them both, his eyes glinting with malice. "You must give me something in return. A token, a promise, or a piece of your soul."
Sylara stepped forward, her voice cold. "We didn't come here to bargain."
Ralen chuckled darkly. "No, you didn't. But I think you will. The Nithralis is not something that can be fought with mere swords and spells. It is a creature of manipulation and deceit, and to defeat it, you must be prepared to sacrifice everything."
A Bitter Bargain
Kael stared at Ralen, his mind working furiously. The scholar was playing a dangerous game, one that involved far more than simply finding a weapon. But what choice did they have? The Nithralis would not stop until it had consumed everything.
"What do you want?" Kael asked, his voice cold but resolute.
Ralen's smile widened, and for a brief moment, his eyes flickered with something far older and far darker than Kael had expected. "Very well. I want you to swear an oath. An oath that binds you to this task and to me."
Kael clenched his jaw. "You want me to swear loyalty to you?"
Ralen's smile turned sharper. "Not loyalty. Service. You will serve me when the time comes—after you've destroyed the Nithralis. You will owe me a debt, and I will come to collect."
Kael's fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword, but he didn't move.
Sylara placed a hand on Kael's arm, her voice low but firm. "We need his help. We don't have a choice."
Kael's gaze flicked to Sylara, then back to Ralen. The scholar's words hung in the air like a trap, but it was a trap they had no choice but to walk into.
"I swear the oath," Kael said, his voice grim.
Ralen's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "Good. Then we have a bargain."
The room seemed to darken as Ralen spoke the words, and a cold wind blew through the ruins, carrying with it the weight of an ancient promise.
End of Chapter 5