The rain fell in silken sheets over the village of Draymoor, each droplet sparkling faintly with the residual magic that hung in the air of Luminaris. Kael sat hunched at his workbench, the flickering glow of a lantern casting shadows over the clutter of maps, inkpots, and measuring tools scattered before him. Outside, the wind howled like a restless beast, but Kael was too engrossed in his task to notice.

"Another bloody map for the archives," he muttered, scribbling the final lines of a topographical sketch. His mentor, Master Hargen, had tasked him with cataloging the forest trails surrounding the village. It was meticulous work, but Kael enjoyed the escape it offered from the monotony of village life.

As he leaned back to admire his work, a faint vibration rippled through the floorboards beneath him. He froze, quill poised in mid-air. The vibration came again, stronger this time, accompanied by a low, resonant hum that seemed to emanate from the hearth across the room.

"Kael, are you still awake?" Master Hargen's voice echoed from the adjacent chamber. The old mapmaker's tone was gruff but tinged with concern.

"Yes, Master. Did you feel that?"

There was a pause before Hargen appeared in the doorway, his wiry frame silhouetted against the dim light of the hall. His brow furrowed as he stepped inside. "Felt it? I bloody heard it too. Something… unusual is stirring."

Kael's gaze shifted back to the hearth. The stones around it glowed faintly, the runes etched into their surface pulsing with an eerie blue light. Hargen followed his apprentice's stare, his expression darkening.

"Impossible," he whispered. "The runes haven't reacted since…" His voice trailed off.

"Since what?" Kael pressed, his curiosity ignited.

Before Hargen could answer, the floor beneath them trembled violently, and the hearthstone split with a deafening crack. Both men stumbled back as a shaft of light burst from the fissure, illuminating the room with a brilliance that was both blinding and mesmerizing. From within the light, a shape began to form—an object, small and round, suspended as if by unseen hands.

"A… compass?" Kael whispered, his eyes wide.

Indeed, it was. The artifact hovered before them, its metallic surface inscribed with intricate runes that shimmered like liquid starlight. Slowly, it descended, landing gently in Kael's outstretched hands as if it had chosen him. The moment his fingers closed around it, the vibrations ceased, and the room fell into an unnerving silence.

Hargen's face was pale. "Kael, put that damn thing down. Now."

"Why? What is it?" Kael asked, though he made no move to obey. The compass felt warm in his hands, its weight comforting yet strange. As he tilted it, the needle inside spun wildly before settling on a direction that defied all logic. It didn't point north, nor did it align with any landmark Kael recognized. Instead, it pulsed faintly, as if urging him to follow.

"That… is a relic from a time best forgotten," Hargen said, his voice trembling. "The compass of Leverko. It should not exist, let alone be here."

Kael frowned. "Leverko? The ruined city from the old legends? I thought it was just a story."

"Stories often hide truths," Hargen replied, his tone grim. "And truths can be dangerous. The Book of Leverko, the compass, all of it—it's tied to a power that brought our kingdom to its knees centuries ago."

Kael's grip on the compass tightened. "If it's so dangerous, why would it appear now? Why to me?"

Before Hargen could answer, a distant roar shattered the stillness. The sound was guttural and inhuman, coming from the direction of the village square. Both men turned toward the window, where shadows danced against the rain-soaked panes.

"No," Hargen breathed. "They've found it."

"Who?" Kael demanded, his heart pounding.

Hargen didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed a leather satchel from the corner of the room and began stuffing it with maps and supplies. "There's no time. We have to leave."

"Leave? But the village—"

"The village is already fucked," Hargen snapped, his eyes blazing with urgency. "If they're here, they'll destroy everything to get that compass. You need to take it far away from here, Kael. It's the only chance we have."

Kael hesitated, the weight of the moment crashing down on him. But before he could respond, the door to the workshop burst open, and a figure cloaked in shadow stepped inside. Its eyes glowed an unnatural red, and the air around it crackled with dark energy.

"Run," Hargen whispered, drawing a dagger from his belt. "Go now, Kael. And don't look back."

Kael's heart pounded as he bolted through the back door into the storm. The rain lashed against his face, and the cold air burned his lungs as he ran, the compass clutched tightly in his hand. Behind him, he could hear the sounds of a struggle—Hargen's grunts of effort, the inhuman snarls of the creature, and the shattering of wood and glass.

He turned onto the main path leading out of the village, his boots slipping on the mud. Around him, chaos reigned. The square was filled with shadowy figures, their forms shifting and writhing as if they were made of smoke. Villagers screamed as they tried to flee, but the creatures were merciless, tearing through anyone who crossed their path.

Kael's mind raced. Why had the compass chosen him? What was so important about Leverko that these monsters would destroy an entire village to claim it? Questions tumbled through his thoughts, but there were no answers, only the unrelenting need to survive.

Ahead, the forest loomed, dark and foreboding. Kael hesitated for only a moment before plunging into the trees. The path was narrow and treacherous, roots and rocks threatening to trip him with every step. The compass's glow illuminated the way, its faint pulsing seeming to guide him deeper into the woods.

Behind him, the sounds of the village grew faint, replaced by the steady rhythm of his own breathing and the distant rustle of leaves. He didn't dare slow down, his fear driving him onward until his legs burned and his lungs felt ready to burst.

Finally, he stumbled to a halt beside a large oak, his body trembling with exhaustion. He leaned against the trunk, clutching the compass as if it were a lifeline. The rain had lessened to a drizzle, and the forest was eerily silent, save for the distant hoot of an owl.

Kael closed his eyes, his thoughts a chaotic swirl. Hargen was gone, his village destroyed, and he was alone in a dark, hostile world. But as he opened his hand and stared at the compass, its steady glow seemed to offer a sliver of hope.

"Alright," he muttered to himself, his voice shaking but resolute. "If you're going to show me the way, let's see where the hell you're taking me."

With that, Kael pushed himself away from the tree and set off into the unknown, the compass lighting his path and the weight of destiny pressing heavily on his shoulders.