The following morning, the tension in the air was palpable. Kael, Mareth, and Lira gathered in a secluded corner of the village, away from the prying eyes of villagers who now seemed to both respect and fear them. The worn wanted poster lay on the ground between them, a stark reminder of the Council's reach.
"If the Council's casting a wide net, we've got a problem," Mareth said, her voice steady but sharp. "It's only a matter of time before someone decides that reward is worth betraying us."
"Agreed," Lira said, folding her arms. "Which is why we need to move. Staying here too long is like painting a target on your back."
Kael rubbed his temples, exhaustion clouding his thoughts. "Move where? The Council's everywhere."
Lira crouched down, picking up the poster. "Not everywhere," she said. "There are places they can't reach. The Shadow Markets, for one."
Kael frowned. "Shadow Markets?"
"Hidden hubs where outlaws, mercenaries, and traders do business," Lira explained. "If anyone can point us toward allies or answers, it'll be there."
Mareth's expression darkened. "And how do we know this isn't a trap?"
Lira's smirk returned, though it lacked its usual confidence. "You don't. But sitting here waiting for the Council isn't exactly safe either, is it?"
Kael looked between them, his mind racing. He hated the idea of putting their trust in a place called the Shadow Markets, but Lira was right. Staying in one place too long would only hasten their capture.
"Fine," he said. "We'll go. But if this turns out to be a mistake…"
"It won't," Lira said, standing. "Pack your things. We leave before sundown."
The journey to the Shadow Markets was grueling. The terrain grew harsher as they left the relative safety of the Free Holds, the forest giving way to jagged hills and narrow ravines. Kael felt the weight of the Crown of Arcana, its presence more palpable with each passing mile. He still hadn't told Lira about the artifact—or the visions it had begun to show him.
"We should stop soon," Mareth said, glancing at the darkening sky. "Traveling at night isn't safe."
"Not here," Lira replied. "We're too exposed. There's a spot up ahead where we can camp."
Kael's legs burned with fatigue, but he said nothing. He focused on the path ahead, the rhythmic crunch of their boots against the dirt keeping his thoughts anchored.
They reached the campsite just as the last light of day disappeared. It was a small clearing nestled between two rocky outcrops, shielded from the wind and prying eyes. Lira built a small fire while Mareth unpacked their provisions.
Kael sat apart from the group, staring into the flickering flames. The Crown's hum was louder now, a constant presence that gnawed at the edges of his mind. He closed his eyes, trying to block it out, but the visions came anyway.
A shadowy figure stood in a grand hall, the Crown of Arcana resting on their head. Their voice echoed, distorted and menacing: Power demands sacrifice. Will you pay the price?
"Kael?"
Mareth's voice pulled him back to reality. He blinked, realizing both she and Lira were watching him.
"Are you all right?" Mareth asked, concern etched across her face.
"I… I'm fine," Kael lied, forcing a weak smile. "Just tired."
Lira's eyes narrowed. "You've been acting strange ever since we left the village. Care to share what's going on?"
Kael hesitated. He wanted to tell them about the Crown, about the visions and the voice, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he shook his head. "It's nothing."
Lira didn't look convinced, but she didn't press the issue. "Suit yourself. But if you're hiding something, now's the time to come clean. Secrets have a way of getting people killed out here."
Kael's stomach twisted with guilt, but he stayed silent. He didn't trust Lira enough to tell her the truth—not yet.
The next morning, they continued their journey. The landscape grew more treacherous, and by midday, they reached a narrow gorge with a precarious rope bridge spanning its width. Lira stopped at the edge, inspecting the bridge with a critical eye.
"This is the fastest way," she said. "But it's not exactly sturdy. We'll need to cross one at a time."
"And if it collapses?" Mareth asked.
Lira shrugged. "Then we find another way. Or we don't."
Kael stepped forward, his heart pounding as he looked down at the chasm below. The wind howled through the gorge, sending shivers down his spine. He glanced at Mareth, who nodded encouragingly.
"I'll go first," he said, gripping the frayed ropes tightly.
The bridge swayed with each step, the creaking wood threatening to give way. Kael's breath came in shallow bursts, his focus entirely on reaching the other side. When he finally stepped onto solid ground, he turned back and waved.
"Your turn," he called.
Mareth followed, her movements steady and deliberate. Lira crossed last, her agility making the treacherous journey look effortless. Once they were all safely across, Lira gave a mock bow.
"See? Easy," she said with a grin.
Kael rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. For a moment, the tension lifted, replaced by a fleeting sense of accomplishment.
But as they pressed on, Kael couldn't shake the feeling that the Shadow Markets would bring more than just answers. The Crown's hum grew louder, and with it, an ominous sense of inevitability. Whatever lay ahead, he knew it would change everything.