The cold mountain wind bit at Eryndor's face as he and Kaelith climbed higher along the narrow path. Far below, Ashenfall shimmered in the distance, its walls barely visible beneath the morning mist.
Kaelith pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, glaring at the snow-dusted trail ahead. "Remind me again why the next relic has to be in the mountains? Couldn't it have been in a nice, warm cave somewhere?"
Eryndor smirked but kept his eyes forward. "Relics aren't known for their hospitality."
Kaelith huffed, kicking at a loose stone. "I'm just saying, we've fought enough shadow creatures to deserve at least one comfortable treasure hunt."
Eryndor glanced down at his cursed arm. The blue fire flickered faintly beneath his skin, dimmer than usual but still present. It had been quiet since the breach at Ashenfall, but he could feel the relic's pull growing stronger the closer they got to Emberpeak.
"There's a reason this one was hidden up here," Eryndor said, his tone more serious. "The northern mountains have been sealed off for years. Old stories claim something… dangerous was left behind."
Kaelith's footsteps slowed. "You're not exactly selling this as a fun trip."
"It won't be," Eryndor replied simply.
They rounded a bend in the path, revealing a narrow bridge stretching over a deep gorge. On the other side, half-buried in snow, lay the crumbling entrance to an ancient fortress—Emberpeak Hold.
Kaelith exhaled, eyeing the broken archway at the far end of the bridge. "So that's it, huh?"
Eryndor nodded. "That's where the relic should be."
Kaelith took a few cautious steps onto the bridge, testing the weight of each step. "Let me guess—this place is haunted too?"
"Most likely."
She groaned but kept moving. "Fantastic."
As they crossed, Eryndor's eyes scanned the fortress, noting the jagged cracks in the stone and the faint scorch marks along the outer walls. Emberpeak had seen battle long ago, but whatever had caused the damage hadn't come from the outside.
Kaelith paused at the entrance, brushing snow from a weathered symbol carved into the arch. "This mark… it's the same one we saw in Ashenfall's catacombs."
Eryndor knelt beside her, running his gloved hand along the carving. The symbol of the scarred eye glared back at him, half-erased by time.
"It's not just a symbol," Eryndor murmured. "It's a warning."
Kaelith stepped inside, her dagger drawn as they entered the fortress. The air inside was colder, almost unnaturally so. The stone walls were lined with faded banners bearing the sigil of old kings, but their colors had long since drained away.
"Doesn't feel right," Kaelith muttered, her eyes flicking to the shadows along the ceiling.
Eryndor's cursed arm pulsed faintly in response.
"It's here," he said quietly. "Somewhere deeper inside."
They passed through a large hall, their footsteps echoing against the stone. In the center of the room, a collapsed statue of a dragon lay in pieces, its head missing. The remnants of an altar stood at the far end, draped in frost.
Kaelith pointed ahead. "That looks important."
Eryndor approached the altar, brushing aside the layer of snow. Beneath it, carved into the surface, was a second relic—identical in shape to the one he carried. But unlike the first, this one glowed faintly, its runes flickering like dying embers.
"It's still sealed," Eryndor said.
Kaelith tilted her head. "So… that's good, right?"
Before Eryndor could answer, a faint voice echoed from behind them.
"Who disturbs Emberpeak's rest?"
Eryndor turned sharply, his sword already half-drawn. Kaelith spun around, dagger ready.
At the entrance to the hall stood a figure wrapped in heavy, blackened armor. The figure's eyes burned red beneath its helm, and the air around it shimmered with heat.
Kaelith tightened her grip on her weapon. "I take it that's not a friendly guard."
Eryndor's cursed arm flared, reacting to the figure's presence. "No," he said. "That's not a guard."
The armored figure stepped forward, the ground beneath its boots hissing as if seared by invisible fire. When it spoke again, its voice echoed with something ancient.
"You carry the fire… but you are not its master."
Eryndor narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"
The figure's gaze flickered to the relic on the altar.
"I am the warden of Emberpeak. And you will not leave with that relic."
Kaelith glanced at Eryndor. "So… we're fighting him?"
Eryndor didn't answer. He simply raised his sword, the flames along its edge roaring to life.
The warden responded in kind, drawing a massive, jagged blade from his side. The air between them crackled as the relic pulsed behind Eryndor, sensing the battle to come.
Kaelith grinned despite herself. "I knew this wouldn't be easy."
With a burst of speed, the warden charged, and the ancient fortress trembled as their blades met.