The following morning, the group reconvened in their safehouse, their faces etched with grim determination. Tink's promise to analyze the Void crystal gave them a glimmer of hope, but they knew they couldn't rely on it alone. Time was against them, and their enemies were growing bolder by the hour.
"We need to confront Eryndor," Boran said, his voice like a rumble of thunder. "If they're working with the Voidborn, they've betrayed the council and the city. They can't be allowed to continue."
Lysara shook her head, pacing the room. "Confronting them outright is too risky. Without solid proof, we'll be labeled as traitors ourselves. The council won't act on suspicion alone."
Eziel, leaning against the wall, crossed his arms. "So, what's the plan? Keep playing detective while the Voidborn tighten their grip?"
Lysara stopped pacing and turned to him. "We need to force their hand. If Eryndor is truly working with the Voidborn, they'll make a move soon. We just have to be ready to expose them when they do."
Boran grunted in agreement, though his clenched fists betrayed his frustration. "Fine. But if they so much as twitch the wrong way, I'm taking them down."
---
Later that day, the group split up to gather intelligence. Eziel and Lysara returned to the Spire, blending in with the steady flow of officials and couriers. They kept their ears open for any mention of Eryndor or unusual activity, but the halls were abuzz with rumors of the Voidborn attack on the western district.
Meanwhile, Boran ventured into the Lower District, seeking information from Arkasol's less reputable inhabitants. His reputation as a fierce warrior often opened doors that would otherwise remain closed, though it also painted a target on his back.
In a dimly lit tavern, Boran met with an old contact—a dwarven smuggler named Grelda. She nursed a tankard of ale as she listened to his inquiries, her sharp eyes glinting with intrigue.
"Eryndor, eh?" Grelda leaned back in her chair, stroking her beard. "I've heard whispers. They've been meeting with some shady folks. Not the usual political types—these ones are different. Dangerous."
"Voidborn?" Boran asked, his tone low.
Grelda shrugged. "Could be. They don't advertise who they work for. But if Eryndor's involved, it's bad news for all of us."
"Where do these meetings happen?"
"Near the old aqueducts," Grelda said, sliding a scrap of parchment across the table. "Here's the location. But be careful—whatever they're planning, it's big."
Boran nodded, slipping the parchment into his pocket. "Thanks, Grelda. I owe you one."
The dwarf chuckled, raising her tankard in a mock toast. "Just don't get yourself killed, Boran. The city's short on heroes as it is."
---
By nightfall, the group regrouped at the safehouse. Boran laid the parchment on the table, its crude map showing a path to the aqueducts. "This is where they're meeting. If we act quickly, we can catch them in the act."
Eziel studied the map, his brow furrowed. "It's a good lead, but it could be a trap. Eryndor's not stupid—they'll be expecting someone to follow them."
Lysara nodded. "We'll need to be cautious. If this meeting is connected to the Voidborn, it's our best chance to gather the proof we need."
The group prepared for the mission, donning enchanted armor and arming themselves with weapons imbued with anti-Void magic. The tension was palpable as they set out, each step taking them closer to the heart of the conspiracy.
---
The aqueducts were a labyrinth of stone and water, their ancient walls dripping with moss and condensation. The air was thick with the scent of decay, and the faint sound of running water echoed through the tunnels.
Eziel led the way, his rune-etched daggers glowing faintly in the darkness. Behind him, Boran and Lysara moved in silence, their weapons at the ready. They followed the map's directions, their path lit by the occasional flicker of Lysara's magic.
As they neared the meeting point, voices drifted through the tunnels. The group pressed themselves against the wall, peering around a corner. In a dimly lit chamber, a group of hooded figures stood in a circle, their faces obscured.
At the center of the circle was Eryndor. They held a Void crystal aloft, its eerie glow illuminating their features. "The time is near," Eryndor said, their voice echoing off the walls. "With this, we will open the rift and usher in a new era."
Eziel's heart raced as he exchanged a glance with Lysara. This was the proof they needed—but getting out alive would be another matter entirely.
Suddenly, one of the hooded figures turned, their eyes narrowing as they spotted the group's faint silhouettes in the shadows. "We're not alone!" they shouted.
The chamber erupted into chaos as the hooded figures drew weapons and spells crackled to life. Eziel, Boran, and Lysara charged into the fray, their blades and magic clashing with the Voidborn forces. The battle was fierce, the confined space amplifying every sound and motion.
Amid the chaos, Eryndor made a break for a hidden passageway, clutching the Void crystal. Eziel saw them and gave chase, his daggers trailing arcs of golden light as he sprinted through the tunnels.
"Stop, Eryndor!" he shouted, his voice ringing with authority. "You won't get away!"
Eryndor glanced back, their expression twisted with determination and fear. "You don't understand!" they yelled. "This is bigger than you can imagine!"
Eziel didn't waver, his steps quickening as he closed the distance. The chase continued deeper into the aqueducts, the shadows growing darker and the air colder with each step.