The sun had barely begun to rise, casting a warm golden hue over the city of Eldrath. The usual bustle of daily life—the vendors setting up stalls, the children playing in the streets—had returned, though the weight of the past few weeks lingered like a shadow, never quite disappearing.
Kaelen sat on the stone steps of the town's central plaza, his sword resting beside him as he gazed out at the horizon. He had spent the night in a rare moment of peace, only to be greeted by the gnawing feeling that things were far from over. The air had the sharpness of something about to break, like the calm before the storm.
Beside him, Lyria leaned against the edge of a nearby barrel, absentmindedly tossing a small rock into the air. Her expression was thoughtful, though Kaelen could tell that she, too, was restless.
"Do you ever get the feeling we're just waiting for the next disaster?" Kaelen asked, not looking at her.
Lyria tossed the rock one last time before catching it. "Every day since we met," she said dryly. "I've stopped hoping for normal. Normal's overrated."
"Yeah, but normal's also boring," Kaelen replied, smirking. He let his gaze linger on the horizon a moment longer before standing up. "You know what we need?"
"What?"
"Adventure," Kaelen said with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Something to spice up the morning. I'm thinking a dragon. Or maybe a rampaging band of orcs. Something big, loud, and slightly inconvenient."
Lyria snorted, but her expression softened. "I'd settle for a nice, quiet day with no evil overlords or apocalyptic plans."
Kaelen raised an eyebrow. "Not even one evil overlord?"
Lyria shrugged. "Well, if they've got a good backstory, I could listen for a bit. Maybe we can take a break from fighting the same villain over and over again."
Just then, the ground beneath them trembled.
The two of them exchanged a look, a silent understanding passing between them. It wasn't the usual rumble that came with a passing storm or a nearby earthquake—it was more of a pulse, a low hum that seemed to come from the earth itself.
"What now?" Kaelen muttered, reaching for his sword.
Before Lyria could respond, a loud boom shook the air, sending a cloud of dust into the streets. From the direction of the mountains, a massive column of smoke rose, dark and foreboding. Kaelen's heart sank.
"Malakar," Lyria said quietly, her eyes narrowing. "It has to be him."
"No," Kaelen said firmly, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. "We took care of him. We made sure he didn't have anything left to come back from."
Lyria's eyes flicked toward the smoke again, worry creeping into her voice. "We've underestimated him before. I think it's time we stop pretending we've finished this."
The ground trembled again, harder this time. Kaelen could hear the distant clamor of panicked voices as people began fleeing the streets. He stood up straight, his jaw setting with resolve. This was no time for second guesses.
"We need to get to the mountains," Kaelen said. "Now."
Without waiting for a response, he turned and began to move toward the edge of the plaza, his mind racing. What had Malakar done this time? Had he somehow rebuilt his forces? Found another way to harness the power of the shadows?
Lyria caught up with him in a few quick strides. "You think he's got more shadowborn?" she asked. "Or something worse?"
Kaelen's face hardened. "I don't know. But we'll find out soon enough."
The two of them cut through the streets, moving toward the northern gate of Eldrath. The path to the mountains was treacherous, filled with narrow roads and steep cliffs. But Kaelen wasn't concerned with that. The sooner they reached the source of the disturbance, the sooner they could put an end to whatever Malakar was planning.
As they reached the gate, Kaelen paused, looking back at the city they had sworn to protect. Eldrath had always been a symbol of hope—of life continuing despite the darkness that threatened to swallow it whole. But now? Now, that hope felt fragile, like it could be snuffed out with one wrong move.
Lyria noticed him hesitating and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, we've been through worse. And we've always come out on top."
Kaelen gave her a faint smile. "Yeah. But there's always a next time with him, isn't there?"
She nodded, her expression serious. "That's why we're going. We stop it now, or we won't get another chance."
He took a deep breath, letting the weight of her words sink in. "Right. Let's go before he decides to blow up the whole mountain range, too."
They set off again, the sound of their boots echoing against the stone walls as they crossed into the wilderness beyond the city. The path was winding, the air growing colder as they ascended into the foothills. The further they went, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. The sky had darkened further, the sun barely visible behind thick clouds that swirled unnaturally.
"I don't like this," Kaelen muttered. "It's too quiet."
Lyria was scanning their surroundings, her hand hovering near the hilt of her own sword. "Yeah. I've got a bad feeling about this."
As they crested a ridge, the smoke from earlier became thicker, swirling into a vast, inky black cloud that stretched across the horizon. And there, amidst the smoke and shadows, stood a massive structure—dark, jagged, and twisted—a fortress like no other, rising from the mountain's peak.
"Malakar's been busy," Kaelen said softly.
Lyria's expression hardened. "Let's finish this. For good."
And with that, they began their ascent toward the fortress, the weight of the past few weeks hanging over them like a storm. The calm was gone. The battle was far from over. And they were about to face a new kind of darkness—one that would test them in ways they hadn't yet imagined.