The ruins of Reverie were a place of legend, shrouded in whispers and half-forgotten stories of the Keepers who once maintained the veil. Nestled deep in the eastern highlands, they were said to be the last remnants of an ancient temple where the veil itself had once been strengthened. Now, it lay dormant—a graveyard of stone and magic.
Elara and the stranger stood at the edge of a sprawling valley, the ruins spread out below them like the skeleton of a long-dead beast. Crumbling pillars jutted into the sky, and shattered mosaics glinted faintly in the pale morning light. A faint hum of energy pulsed through the air, a tangible reminder of the magic that still lingered here.
"This is it," Elara said, her voice low. "The innkeeper was right. If Caius is anywhere, it's here."
The stranger nodded, their silver runes glowing faintly. "The energy here is... strange. It feels like the veil is thinner in this place."
"Then we're not alone," Elara replied, her grip tightening on her sword. She scanned the ruins below, her emerald eyes sharp. "Shadowborn?"
The stranger shook their head. "No. Something else."
The descent into the ruins was slow and cautious. Every step was measured, every sound scrutinized. The ruins were silent, save for the faint whisper of the wind through the broken arches. But the silence was not comforting—it was oppressive, heavy with the weight of something unseen.
Elara stopped suddenly, her gaze fixed on a set of carvings etched into a crumbling wall. The symbols were intricate and ancient, depicting a great tree with roots that extended into both light and shadow.
"This must be one of the old Keeper sites," she said, running her fingers over the carvings. "They used places like this to anchor the veil."
The stranger studied the symbols, their silver runes flaring briefly. "It's more than that. These ruins were a gateway—a point of connection between this world and the veil itself. If Caius is caught between realms, this place might be the key to bringing him back."
Elara's breath hitched. "Then we have to keep going."
The path through the ruins led them deeper into the valley, where the air grew colder and the light dimmer. The faint hum of energy grew louder, vibrating in their bones. The shards in Elara's satchel—remnants of the battles they'd fought—pulsed faintly, as though resonating with the ruins' power.
The stranger stopped abruptly, their gaze narrowing. "Do you feel that?"
Elara nodded, her sword already drawn. "We're being watched."
From the shadows of the ruins, figures began to emerge. They were humanoid but wrong—distorted and ethereal, their forms shifting like smoke. Their eyes glowed with an eerie light, and their movements were slow and deliberate.
"Guardians," the stranger said, their voice tense. "They're remnants of the Keepers' magic, bound to protect this place."
"Do they know we're not enemies?" Elara asked, though she already knew the answer.
The guardians moved as one, their glowing eyes locking onto the pair. Without a word, they charged, their forms shifting and flickering as they moved.
"Guess not," Elara muttered, raising her sword.
The battle was swift and brutal. The guardians fought with an otherworldly grace, their movements fluid and unpredictable. Elara's blade cut through the first one, its form dissolving into wisps of light, but more took its place, surrounding them.
The stranger's silver runes flared brightly as they moved with precision, their daggers slicing through the guardians' shifting forms. "They're drawn to the shards!" they shouted. "We need to move before more show up!"
Elara slashed through another guardian, her movements fueled by sheer determination. "How do we stop them?"
"We don't!" the stranger replied, their voice strained. "We outrun them!"
The pair broke into a sprint, weaving through the ruins as the guardians pursued them. The hum of energy grew louder, and the ruins seemed to shift around them, the paths twisting and narrowing as though the ruins themselves were alive.
At last, they reached a massive stone door, its surface etched with the same intricate carvings they had seen before. The stranger placed a hand on the door, their runes flaring as they muttered an incantation.
"Hurry!" Elara shouted, glancing over her shoulder as the guardians closed in.
The door groaned and shuddered, its ancient mechanisms grinding as it slowly began to open. The stranger stepped back, their runes dimming. "Inside! Now!"
Elara didn't hesitate, diving through the opening just as the guardians reached them. The door slammed shut behind them, cutting off the guardians' pursuit.
The chamber beyond the door was vast and filled with a soft, golden light. At its center stood a massive tree, its roots stretching across the floor and its branches disappearing into the ceiling. The air here was warm and still, and the hum of energy was replaced by a deep, soothing silence.
Elara stepped forward, her eyes wide with awe. "What is this place?"
"The heart of the ruins," the stranger said, their voice reverent. "This is where the veil was anchored."
As they approached the tree, a faint figure appeared beneath its branches—a man cloaked in shadows, his form flickering like a dying flame. Elara's breath caught in her throat.
"Caius?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
The figure turned, its glowing blue eyes locking onto hers. For a moment, Elara thought she saw recognition in his gaze. But then the shadows around him deepened, and his voice echoed through the chamber, cold and distant.
"You shouldn't have come here."