The archives of Vallis Renholm were in ruins.
What had once been the records of a noble lord had become a shattered mess—scrolls left to rot, ink faded with time, pages torn and scattered like leaves in an abandoned crypt.
Yet somewhere in this chaos, a secret had been left behind.
Aric stood in the dim candlelight of Vallis's old study, the scent of aged parchment and dust thick in the air. The wooden desk before him was covered in half-deciphered ledgers, maps, and fragmented letters. Some contained logistics of trade routes, tax records, and petty disputes between noble houses.
But one document stood out.
Lira leaned over the desk, flipping through the yellowed pages with practiced speed. "Half of this is useless," she muttered. "Faded, torn—" She stopped suddenly.
Aric noticed it too.
Beneath a false bottom in the drawer, an older, brittle parchment lay hidden.
Kael, watching from the shadows, let out a low whistle. "Someone didn't want this to be found."
Lira carefully lifted the fragile paper and spread it out on the table.
Aric's eyes narrowed. It was a map.
Not of any current kingdom. Not of any known region.
The markings were ancient, the script written in a language half-forgotten by history.
But one thing was clear.
It pointed to something.
And that something lay deep in the Blackridge Mountains.
----
The moment Aric laid eyes on the marked location, a sharp pulse shot through his skull.
Not pain.
Not exactly.
Something older.
A whisper of a memory—of things he should not know, but somehow did.
He clenched his jaw, pushing the sensation aside.
"What is this place?" Lira muttered, scanning the map. "I've never seen a settlement marked there. No roads, no records, no mention of a town or city in this region."
Kael exhaled, studying the symbols scrawled around the marking. Ancient glyphs. "This isn't just old. This is older than any kingdom that stands today."
Aric traced a finger over the faded ink, his mind turning the pieces.
"This ruin predates the Rift," he murmured. "Or at least, predates written history of it."
Kael shot him a skeptical glance. "And that doesn't scream 'trap' to you?"
Lira frowned. "If it's that ancient, why the hell would Vallis have a map leading to it?"
Silence.
That was the real question.
Aric's gut told him this was important.
A lead. A path.
Something connected to the Rift's origins—or his own past.
And yet, Kael wasn't wrong.
This could be a warning, not a guide.
----
Kael crossed his arms, his usual smirk absent. "Think about it. A hidden map? Buried in the archives of a dead noble who ruled a Rift-touched land? It's too perfect."
Aric met his gaze. "And what do you think it means?"
Kael exhaled slowly. "Someone wanted us to find this. Or maybe they wanted someone else to find it before us."
Lira leaned against the desk, her brow furrowed. "So, what? Do you think this is bait? A way to lure us into a trap?"
Kael shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time someone used ancient secrets to lead idiots to their deaths."
Aric studied the map again. A decision had to be made.
This was the first real lead he had about the Rift's origins.
And yet, if this was a trap, blindly marching into it would be suicide.
His grip tightened on the map's edges.
"We send scouts first," he finally said.
Lira nodded. "Smart. No sense in walking into an ambush if we don't have to."
Kael sighed, shaking his head. "Let's just hope we're not sending them to die."
But deep down, Aric knew—
Whatever was hidden in those ruins had been buried for a reason.
And someone, somewhere, did not want it uncovered.
----
The morning air was cold and heavy as Aric stood at the village gates, watching the small group of scouts prepare for their journey.
Six men. Hand-picked. Experienced trackers, former mercenaries, and hunters who had spent their lives navigating the mountains.
If anyone could survive a dangerous expedition into the Blackridge Mountains, it was them.
Lira adjusted the straps of her weapons. "Last chance to change your mind and send a larger force."
Aric shook his head. "No. We need them to move quietly. A larger group risks too much attention."
Kael leaned lazily against a wooden post, flicking a dagger between his fingers. "And what happens when they don't come back?"
Aric glanced at him. "Then we'll know it's a trap."
Kael's smirk didn't reach his eyes. "Comforting."
The lead scout, a grizzled man named Gerric, stepped forward and bowed slightly. "We'll move fast, keep off the main paths. If we find anything, we'll send a messenger falcon back to Eldermere."
"Good," Aric said. "Avoid unnecessary fights. If something feels wrong, turn back."
Gerric hesitated for just a second. "And if we don't make it back?"
Aric met his gaze.
"Then I'll come myself."
The scout nodded grimly before motioning to his men. Within moments, they disappeared into the mist-covered road leading into the mountains.
Aric exhaled, but the weight in his chest did not lessen.
He had made his decision.
Now, all he could do was wait.
----
That night, the storm began.
Aric had barely slept since sending the scouts. Every time he closed his eyes, the Rift called to him.
But this—this was different.
The air felt wrong.
It wasn't just a storm.
The wind howled, but it carried no scent of rain. The clouds above swirled, dark and pulsing, streaked with unnatural blue veins of light—like cracks in the sky.
Lira's voice was tense. "This isn't natural."
Kael stood beside her, staring at the sky. "No shit."
Then—the first bolt of lightning struck.
Not from the clouds.
From the mountains.
A second later, a falcon screamed through the sky, streaking toward Eldermere like an arrow.
A scout's bird.
Aric's stomach tightened.
Lira reached up, catching it. Her fingers trembled as she unwrapped the message strapped to its leg.
Her eyes scanned the parchment.
Then—she paled.
"…They're already dead," she whispered.
Aric snatched the message from her hands.
The ink was smudged, written in a shaking hand.
"We were wrong. The ruins are not abandoned. Something is here. Watching. Waiting. RUN—"
The last word was incomplete.
A heavy silence settled over them.
Then—the ground rumbled.
Aric turned toward the mountains.
Lightning split the sky again, illuminating the darkness.
For just a second, he saw it.
A massive, shifting shadow at the base of the mountains.
Moving.
Rising.
And then—the storm swallowed it whole.