The Council Hall emptied slowly after Kelvros's cryptic words, but the air still felt thick with unanswered questions. The ethereal glow from the runic lanterns flickered, casting shadows that seemed to linger too long.
Drakar's companions gathered around him as the councilors departed in hushed groups. Seris was the first to break the silence.
"I don't trust him," she muttered, arms crossed. "He appears out of nowhere with ominous warnings and half-truths."
Taronis nodded, his expression grim. "He knows too much and offers too little. That usually spells trouble."
Elaria, however, remained quiet, her eyes fixed on the doorway where Kelvros had vanished. "Knowledge is a weapon too. Sometimes the most dangerous thing is ignorance."
Drakar turned to her, his emberlit gaze steady. "You believe him?"
Elaria's expression softened. "I don't know yet. But if there's even a chance that what he says is true, we can't ignore it."
Kaelen sighed and adjusted his quiver. "Great. Another cryptic guide with too many secrets. I'm getting tired of this pattern."
Drakar exhaled and looked around at his companions—his closest allies who had fought through fire and shadow beside him. "We've faced things we never thought we could survive. If this Kelvros knows something that can help, I'll hear him out. But if it's a trap..."
Taronis drew his sword slightly from its sheath, the steel glinting coldly in the low light. "Then we'll handle it. Together."
The Silent Path
Kelvros's trail led through the winding streets of the bastion, past intricate statues and banners emblazoned with ancient sigils. The quiet hum of arcane wards filled the air. Drakar and his companions followed at a cautious pace, their eyes scanning every shadow.
"He moves like a phantom," Vaelen muttered, his hand resting on the hilt of his twin daggers. "I don't like chasing shadows."
Seris glanced up at the towering walls around them. "Especially not in a place that can swallow you whole."
At last, they reached a secluded courtyard surrounded by ivy-draped arches. Kelvros stood in the center, hands folded behind his back. The morning light filtered through the leaves, dappling the stone with golden flecks.
"You came," Kelvros said without turning. "I wasn't sure if you would."
Drakar stepped forward, his presence imposing yet calm. "We don't ignore warnings, especially when lives are at stake. But you'll need to be more than vague whispers if you want us to trust you."
Kelvros turned, his face as inscrutable as ever. "Fair enough."
The Forgotten Accord
Kelvros raised a hand, and a soft hum filled the courtyard. A glowing sphere of silver light materialized, floating gently above his palm.
"This," he began, "is a fragment of the Accord of Ashes. One of the last relics of the age when the realms stood united against the shadows."
The sphere pulsed, projecting images into the air—a vision of vast armies standing together beneath storm-darkened skies. Humans, elves, orcs, and even creatures unknown to Drakar marched as one, their banners fluttering defiantly.
"The Accord was forged in blood and sacrifice," Kelvros continued. "But it was broken when greed and fear took root. The Myrrhkin were not the first to fall, but they became the darkest example of what happens when unity shatters."
Elaria's breath caught as she watched the spectral armies fade. "So this isn't just about prophecy. It's about history repeating itself."
Kelvros's eyes flickered with a strange sorrow. "Yes. And if we fail to learn from it, the realms will burn."
Unveiling the Path
Drakar stepped closer, his voice steady but questioning. "And what path do you suggest? What must we do to stop this?"
Kelvros hesitated, his composure cracking for the first time. "The Ashen Expanse holds more than ruins. There is a key—a beacon forged from starlight and void, hidden within the shifting sands. If activated, it can either shield the realms or tear the fabric of fate apart."
Kaelen scoffed. "Sounds simple enough. Just walk into a deathtrap, find a mythical key, and hope it doesn't kill us."
Kelvros's lips twitched into a faint, humorless smile. "That's the short version, yes."
Vaelen narrowed his eyes. "And why haven't you sought it yourself? If you know where it is—"
"Because I am bound," Kelvros interrupted, his tone sharp. He pulled back his sleeve, revealing an intricate array of glowing runes etched into his skin. "The Accord demands a price from those who carry its remnants. I cannot act directly. But you can."
The group exchanged uncertain glances.
Drakar's voice was low but resolute. "If this key is as important as you say, we have no choice. But know this—I will not be a pawn. If you lead us into ruin, you'll answer for it."
Kelvros inclined his head. "Understood."
A New Purpose
As the first bells of morning rang through the bastion, Drakar and his companions prepared to leave. Supplies were gathered, maps unfurled, and farewells exchanged.
Elaria pulled Drakar aside before they descended the steps of the citadel. "Are you sure about this?"
He met her gaze, the weight of his decisions clear in his emberlit eyes. "No. But we've never been sure, have we?"
Elaria's smile was bittersweet. "No. But we've always moved forward anyway."
She placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch light but grounding. "Then let's see it through."
Drakar nodded, his resolve hardening. "Together."
Emberfang let out a low, approving growl as they stepped into the morning light. The journey west had begun.