Kael followed the man down the spiral staircase, his breath loud in the suffocating darkness. The narrow stone steps seemed to stretch endlessly, each one slick with moisture. His hand brushed the damp wall for balance, but even that felt wrong—like the stones were alive, pulsing faintly under his fingertips.
"Where are we going?" Kael demanded, his voice a low hiss.
"Somewhere safe," the man replied calmly, though his footsteps never faltered. "For now."
Safe. Kael doubted that. He doubted everything about this stranger who had appeared out of nowhere and led him deeper into the belly of Eryndel. The man moved with quiet confidence, as if the shadows themselves made way for him. It was unnerving.
Finally, the staircase ended, spilling them into a cavernous chamber. Dim lanterns hung from hooks on the walls, their golden glow fighting back the oppressive dark. The ceiling arched high above, supported by thick stone pillars carved with strange, twisting symbols that looked like they were moving if Kael stared too long.
The man turned and faced Kael, pulling back his hood to reveal his face fully.
Kael tensed, instinctively stepping back. The man looked… wrong. His features were too sharp, too perfect—golden eyes that seemed to see right through him, and a mouth curved into a smile that hinted at secrets Kael didn't want to know.
"You've led me into a crypt," Kael said coldly. "You better start explaining before I leave you here."
The man laughed softly, the sound echoing off the walls. "A crypt? No, boy. This place is older than Eryndel itself. Older than the Crown. The ones who built this didn't fear the dead—they feared what lay beneath."
Kael glanced uneasily at the floor, noticing for the first time that the stone was etched with circular patterns—rings within rings, all converging toward the center of the chamber.
"And what lies beneath?" Kael asked warily.
The man's smile widened, though it never reached his eyes. "Answers. Power. Truth. The kind that the Crown has been burying for centuries."
"Who are you?" Kael pressed, his voice sharp.
The man regarded him for a long moment, the golden glow of the lanterns dancing in his eyes. "My name is Ciaran Draelis," he said finally, "and I'm the last prince of a dead house. A house your Crown wiped from history."
Kael's brow furrowed. The name was familiar, like a whisper from an old tale his father once told him. A noble house that had rebelled decades ago—and had been crushed mercilessly by the monarchy.
"Why are you helping me?" Kael asked, suspicion lacing every word.
Ciaran's smile faded. "Because whether you like it or not, Stormcloak, you and I are tied together now. That crystal you carry isn't just a stolen trinket—it's part of something far greater. And I have every intention of making sure it doesn't fall back into the Crown's hands."
Kael frowned. He had expected lies, manipulation—maybe even betrayal. But there was something in Ciaran's voice, something raw, that made Kael hesitate.
He pulled the satchel from his shoulder and opened it, revealing the crystal. It pulsed faintly in his hands, its glow casting shifting shadows across the walls. The air around it seemed heavier, like the room itself was holding its breath.
"What is it?" Kael asked quietly.
Ciaran's gaze darkened. "It's a fragment of the Void."
The words sent a chill down Kael's spine. "The Void? That's just a myth."
Ciaran shook his head. "That's what they want you to believe. The Void isn't a story, Stormcloak—it's real. And it's waking up."
Kael stared at the crystal, his throat dry. He could feel it—its pull, its hunger. The same hunger he'd felt on the rooftop when the shadows moved on their own.
"And what does this have to do with me?" he demanded.
Ciaran stepped closer, his golden eyes gleaming. "You don't know, do you?" He studied Kael for a moment, and then, with unsettling certainty, said, "You're a Void Wielder. The first in centuries."
Kael staggered back as if struck. "No," he said, shaking his head. "That's not possible. I'm just—"
"A thief? A runaway? You think shadows obey thieves?" Ciaran's voice rose, his calm exterior finally cracking. "You felt it, didn't you? On that rooftop. They didn't just obey—they listened. You were born for this."
Kael's heart pounded in his chest. He wanted to deny it, to call Ciaran a liar, but he couldn't. Deep down, he knew the truth. The shadows had always been there, lingering at the edges of his mind, whispering promises he didn't want to hear.
Ciaran stepped back, regaining his composure. "The Crown hunts you because they know what you are. They'll never stop. You can run for the rest of your life, or you can learn to control it. The choice is yours."
Kael's gaze flickered to the crystal. It pulsed once, as though in response.
"What happens if I don't?" he asked softly.
Ciaran's expression darkened. "Then the Void will consume you—and everything around you."
Silence hung between them, heavy as stone. Kael clenched his fists, his mind racing. He didn't trust Ciaran, but the man's words had struck a nerve he couldn't ignore. If the Void was real—if the shadows were part of it—then what did that make him?
Before Kael could speak, a low rumble shook the chamber. Dust rained from the ceiling as the lanterns flickered. Ciaran's head snapped toward the entrance.
"They've found us," he hissed.
Kael turned, his blood running cold as the faint glow of torches appeared at the top of the spiral staircase. The sound of armored boots echoed through the stone chamber, growing louder with every second.
Ciaran drew his blade—a sleek, black weapon that seemed to drink the light around it. "If you want to live, Stormcloak, you'll have to fight."
Kael's hands shook as he looked at the satchel, the crystal pulsing inside it like a beating heart. The shadows at the edges of the room stirred, coiling like snakes, waiting.
Let go . The voice was back, stronger this time. They are yours to command. Use them.
Kael clenched his jaw, his breath coming in shallow bursts. "I can't control it."
Ciaran didn't look back as he stepped toward the staircase, blade in hand. "Then let them control you."