Aleron stared in awe at the figure lying upon the stone pedestal. A soft, pulsating glow emanated from runes etched into the surface, casting an ethereal light that bathed the chamber in hues of silver and blue. The air around the cocoon shimmered with dormant magic, ancient and powerful, like a heartbeat slowed but ever-present.
Seraphina approached cautiously, her hand outstretched but not quite touching the barrier that surrounded the sleeping form. "This magic... it's a stasis spell," she whispered, her voice reverent. "Whoever placed it was trying to protect them."
Aleron edged closer, his eyes narrowing as he took in the figure's features. The heir was younger than he had imagined—barely more than a boy—with raven-black hair that framed a face marked by sharp, noble angles. His eyes remained closed, but his expression was tense, as though he was lost in a dream of endless battle. A strange sigil, one Aleron did not recognize, glowed faintly on the back of the heir's hand.
"Can we wake him?" he asked, his voice breaking the stillness.
"Not yet," Seraphina replied, her gaze flickering with both awe and caution. "The spell is complex. If we disrupt it without understanding its intricacies, it could kill him."
Dorian moved to her side, his eyes scanning the arcane symbols etched along the walls. "These runes... they're tied to a deeper power. Aetheric magic—raw, unstable. Whoever crafted this was a master of the old arts. Breaking it will take more than brute force."
"Then we find a way," Aleron said firmly. "We didn't come this far to leave him here."
Aidan, leaning against the entrance, watched with arms crossed. His usual smirk was absent, replaced by a somber expression. "You're assuming he's the heir you're looking for. What if he's not? What if this is a trap?"
Jareth, who had been quietly observing, stepped forward. "If he's tied to the Void in any way, we'll know soon enough. The magic surrounding him... it resonates with light, not darkness."
As they debated, the glow of the sigil on the heir's hand brightened, sending a pulse of magic through the room. The ground trembled, and cracks spiderwebbed across the walls.
"Move!" Seraphina shouted.
The chamber shook violently. Aleron grabbed his sword as a surge of energy burst from the pedestal, slamming into the surrounding runes. The light flickered wildly before the magic barrier began to collapse. A roar, deep and resonant, echoed from beyond the chamber's walls.
"They know we're here," Dorian hissed. "We need to secure this place or get out—now."
"Help me stabilize the runes!" Seraphina commanded, already tracing intricate patterns in the air as glowing threads of power responded to her gestures.
Aleron's heart raced as he glanced between her and the trembling form of the heir. Instinct told him this was more than a coincidence. The heir wasn't waking on his own—something was stirring him from his magical prison.
The roar came again, louder, nearer, and with it, the unmistakable sense of an approaching force.
Jareth growled under his breath, daggers at the ready. "Voidspawn. Several of them."
Aidan cursed and drew his bow, an arrow already nocked. "We're about to have company."
The first creature broke through the crumbling wall with a deafening crash, its grotesque form a mockery of life. Tendrils of darkness writhed around its elongated limbs, and its eyes glowed with an unnatural hunger. It moved with a fluid, predatory grace, its maw opening to reveal rows of jagged teeth.
Aleron stepped forward, his sword gleaming as he slashed at the creature. His blade cut deep, but the voidspawn barely flinched, its body twisting unnaturally to avoid a follow-up strike.
Seraphina's magic flared as she redirected her focus. Blue fire ignited in her hands, and she hurled a bolt of energy that struck the creature squarely in the chest. It shrieked as the flames consumed it, disintegrating into ash and shadow.
"More incoming!" Aidan called, loosing arrows with deadly precision.
The battle raged in the narrow chamber, each moment a fight for survival. Voidspawn poured through the cracks like a relentless tide, their twisted forms born of darkness and malice.
Aleron fought with growing desperation. His strikes became a blur, his movements driven by instinct and sheer determination. Every swing of his sword was met with resistance, every breath a struggle against the oppressive power that filled the air.
"Hold the line!" Seraphina shouted. Her eyes blazed with power as she unleashed a storm of arcane fury, the magic around her dancing like living fire.
But even as they fought, the magic protecting the heir began to wane. The sigil on his hand pulsed faster, and the cocoon of light started to fracture.
"Something's happening!" Aleron yelled.
The heir's eyes snapped open.
The world seemed to stop.
For a heartbeat, there was silence. The heir's gaze, fierce and unseeing, burned with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the very fabric of reality. His hand shot out, and a burst of light erupted from his palm, blinding and pure. The voidspawn writhed in agony as the light consumed them, their forms dissolving into nothingness.
When the light faded, the chamber was silent once more. The walls, cracked and worn, still held, but the air was thick with the remnants of battle.
The heir sat up slowly, his breathing heavy. His eyes—storm-grey, like a gathering tempest—fixed on Aleron.
"Who are you?" the heir asked, his voice hoarse but filled with an undeniable strength.
Aleron, still catching his breath, met the heir's gaze. "I'm Aleron. We came to find you."
The heir's expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something—recognition, perhaps—before his features hardened.
"And now that you've found me," he said quietly, "what happens next?"