The air around the Ruins of Avalar grew colder as Lucas and Eira approached. The shimmering energy that enveloped the ancient city was almost tangible, sending tingles up Lucas's arms. It was unlike any magic he had ever encountered—ancient, raw, and undeniably powerful.
"We're close," Eira said, her voice low. "Stay sharp. The ruins have been abandoned for centuries, but that doesn't mean they're empty."
Lucas nodded, clutching his staff. His body still ached from their escape from the golem, but the sight of Avalar ahead stirred a mix of excitement and dread.
The first structure they came to was a crumbling archway, its stone engraved with runes that glowed faintly as they passed beneath. Beyond it lay a labyrinth of toppled columns, cracked walls, and vine-choked pathways.
"What exactly are we looking for?" Lucas asked, his voice echoing softly.
"The Nexus Scrolls should be in the central library," Eira replied. "If the structure is still intact."
"And if it's not?"
Eira gave him a sidelong glance. "Then we improvise."
As they ventured deeper into the ruins, Lucas felt the weight of the place pressing down on him. Shadows danced at the edges of his vision, and faint whispers seemed to drift on the wind.
"Do you hear that?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Eira's hand went to her dagger. "Hear what?"
"The whispers," Lucas said, glancing around nervously.
Eira's brow furrowed. "The magic here is old—older than anything you've ever encountered. It plays tricks on the mind. Don't let it distract you."
Lucas nodded, but the whispers persisted, growing louder the further they walked.
They came to a large courtyard dominated by a massive fountain, now dry and overgrown with moss. At the center of the fountain stood a statue of a mage, his hands raised as if casting a spell.
"This was the heart of Avalar," Eira said, her tone reverent. "The fountain marked the city's center. The library should be close."
Lucas studied the statue, drawn to the intricate runes carved into its base. As he reached out to touch them, a sudden flash of light erupted from the statue, forcing him to stumble back.
"Lucas!" Eira shouted, rushing to his side.
The light coalesced into a ghostly figure—a tall man clad in flowing robes, his eyes glowing with an unnatural brilliance.
"Who dares disturb the sanctity of Avalar?" the figure demanded, his voice resonating like a thunderclap.
Eira stepped forward, her dagger drawn. "We mean no harm. We're seeking the Nexus Scrolls."
The figure's gaze shifted to Lucas, his expression unreadable. "The mark of the curse…" he murmured. "You are the chosen, bound to the fate of this realm."
Lucas froze. "Chosen? I didn't choose any of this!"
The figure's expression darkened. "The curse does not seek permission. It binds and consumes all in its path. But if you have come to end its reign, you will need the knowledge hidden within these ruins."
"Then help us," Eira said firmly. "We can't do this alone."
The ghostly figure hesitated, as if weighing their worth. Finally, he nodded. "Very well. The path to the library lies through the Hall of Echoes. But beware—the curse has seeped into this place, corrupting its guardians. They will not let you pass easily."
The light around the figure dimmed, and he began to fade. "Seek the light within, and remember: the curse is not just an enemy—it is a mirror. Face it, or be consumed."
With that, the figure vanished, leaving Lucas and Eira alone once more.
"Great," Lucas muttered. "More cryptic warnings and deadly obstacles."
Eira smirked, though her expression was grim. "That's how you know we're on the right track."
They pressed on, finding the entrance to the Hall of Echoes—a towering gateway etched with glowing runes. As they stepped inside, the air grew colder, and the whispers returned, louder than ever.
The hall was vast, its walls lined with faded murals depicting Avalar's history. But the beauty of the place was overshadowed by the oppressive darkness that clung to every corner.
Lucas's pulse quickened as movement caught his eye. Shadows detached themselves from the walls, forming humanoid shapes with glowing red eyes.
"Guardians," Eira said, her voice tense. "Stay close."
The first shadow lunged at Lucas, its clawed hand reaching for his throat. He reacted instinctively, raising his staff and casting a burst of light that sent the creature recoiling.
Eira moved like a whirlwind, her enchanted dagger slicing through another shadow with precision. "Don't let them overwhelm you!" she shouted.
Lucas nodded, focusing his magic as more shadows advanced. His spells were clumsy but effective, each burst of light forcing the creatures back.
The battle was chaotic, the air filled with the sounds of clashing magic and Eira's sharp commands. Despite their efforts, the shadows kept coming, their numbers seemingly endless.
"We can't keep this up!" Lucas yelled, his energy waning.
Eira's eyes darted around the hall, landing on a large crystal embedded in the floor at the far end. "The Nexus Crystal! If we can activate it, it should dispel the shadows."
Lucas followed her gaze, his heart sinking. The crystal was surrounded by more shadows, their forms writhing like smoke.
"Cover me," Eira said, already moving.
"Wait, what?!" Lucas protested, but she was already weaving through the shadows with deadly grace.
Gritting his teeth, Lucas channeled the last of his strength into his staff, sending wave after wave of light toward the creatures. The effort left him drained, but it bought Eira enough time to reach the crystal.
She slammed her dagger into the crystal's surface, and it erupted in a blinding flash of light. The shadows shrieked, their forms dissolving into nothingness.
When the light faded, the hall was silent once more.
Eira returned to Lucas, her breathing heavy but her eyes alight with triumph. "That should hold them off for now. Let's find those scrolls."
Lucas nodded, his legs barely able to support him. As they moved deeper into the hall, he couldn't shake the ghost's warning from his mind. The curse was a mirror, it had said. But what was it reflecting?
He didn't have an answer, but he knew one thing for certain—they were running out of time.