Aric sprinted through the narrow streets of Drakemoor, his heart pounding in his chest. The uneven cobblestones threatened to trip him with every step, but he couldn’t slow down—not now. Shouts rang out behind him, boots pounding against the stone as Malakar’s agents closed in.

  Keep moving. Don’t stop. Don’t look back.

  The city he once knew so well now felt like a labyrinth of danger. Every shadow could hide an enemy, every alley could be a trap. He darted around a corner, pressing himself against the rough stone of a crumbling wall, chest heaving as he struggled to quiet his breathing.

  Think, Aric. Where can you go?

  The old tannery near the market? No, too exposed. The bridge leading out of the city? They’d have it guarded. The catacombs beneath the temple ruins—dangerous, but a better option than getting caught.

  A crash behind him sent his thoughts scattering. They were close. Too close.

  No choice.

  Aric pushed off the wall and ran, weaving through the darkened streets. If he was going to escape, he had to act fast. Because if Malakar’s men caught him, there wouldn’t be a second chance.

  He ducked into an alleyway, pressing himself against the wall as a group of guards ran past. His breath came in ragged gasps, but he forced himself to stay calm. He had to make it to the southern gate, but it wouldn’t be easy.

  As Aric pressed deeper into the city, the familiar streets gave way to an unfamiliar district, one that felt forgotten by time. The buildings here loomed like hollowed-out husks, their facades cracked and weathered, their darkened windows staring like empty eyes. Weeds pushed through the broken cobblestones, and the air was thick with the scent of damp stone and decay.

  A heavy silence hung over the streets, broken only by the distant drip of water from a rusted gutter. No merchants, no beggars, not even a stray cat scurrying through the shadows—just an oppressive stillness that set his nerves on edge.

  Where am I?

  Aric slowed his steps, his fingers twitching toward his weapon. This place wasn’t just abandoned—it felt wrong. Like something lingered in the darkness, just out of sight, watching.

  He knew he couldn’t stay here long. Malakar’s reach was long, and he wouldn’t hesitate to send more guards after him. But as Aric turned a corner, he came face-to-face with a figure cloaked in shadow.

  The figure stepped forward, revealing a face covered in scars and a pair of piercing blue eyes. “You’re Aric Sunbeam,” the man said, his voice low and gravelly. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  Aric tightened his grip on his sword. “Who are you?”

  The man smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “A friend. Or at least, not an enemy. I’ve been tracking Malakar for some time, and I know what you’re up against. If you want to survive, you’ll need my help.”

  Aric didn’t lower his guard. “Why should I trust you?”

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  “Because,” the man said, stepping closer, “I’m the only one who can get you into the catacombs without being noticed. And because I know something you don’t—there’s more at stake here than just the crystal.”

  Aric’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  The man’s expression darkened. “Malakar isn’t just after the crystal’s power. He’s looking for something far older, something buried deep beneath this city. If he finds it, he’ll become unstoppable.”

  Aric felt a chill run down his spine. “What is it?”

  The man shook his head. “Not here. Meet me at the southern gate at midnight. I’ll explain everything then.”

  With that, the man turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Aric alone in the dark alley. He didn’t have time to ponder the stranger’s words. He needed to regroup with the others and figure out their next move.

  But as he made his way to the southern gate, a sense of dread settled over him. The stakes were higher than he had imagined, and the path ahead was fraught with danger.

  While Aric navigated the city’s labyrinthine streets, the rest of the group faced their own challenges.

  Thalrin, always the warrior, fought his way through the guards with brute strength. He eventually found himself in the city’s industrial quarter, where he took refuge in an abandoned foundry. There, he waited for the appointed time, his mind racing with thoughts of how they would take down Malakar.

  Elyndra and Liora, using their intelligence to outwit their pursuers, managed to escape into the city’s underground tunnels. They navigated the dark, twisting paths with a mixture of caution and desperation, knowing that one wrong turn could lead them straight into Malakar’s hands.

  Kael, ever the trickster, used his bardic talents to evade capture, slipping into the crowd and vanishing into the night. He made his way to a safehouse known only to him, where he planned their next move.

  Elara, carrying her precious research, fled to the outskirts of the city, where she sought refuge in a small chapel. There, she prayed for guidance, hoping that the gods would show them a way to defeat Malakar and save the world from his grasp.

  As midnight approached, the group slowly began to gather at the southern gate. Aric was the first to arrive, followed by Thalrin, who greeted him with a gruff nod. Elyndra and Liora appeared next, emerging from a hidden entrance in the city wall. Kael arrived shortly after, his usual carefree attitude replaced with grim determination. Finally, Elara joined them, clutching her notes tightly to her chest.

  They waited in tense silence, the weight of the night’s events pressing down on them.

  Aric spoke first, breaking the uneasy quiet. “I met someone—someone who knows about Malakar’s plan. He said there’s more at stake than we thought. Malakar is after something buried beneath the city, something even more dangerous than the crystal.”

  Thalrin’s eyes narrowed. “Who was this man?”

  Aric hesitated. “I don’t know. He didn’t give me his name, but he said he could get us into the catacombs undetected. He’s supposed to meet us here.”

  Before anyone could respond, a figure stepped out of the shadows, his movements deliberate and fluid, like a predator emerging from cover. The dim light caught the edges of his weathered cloak, which seemed to absorb the surrounding darkness. His boots made little sound against the stone floor, and yet his presence was impossible to ignore, commanding attention without effort.

  “My name is Riven,” he said, his voice low and steady, carrying the weight of experience and danger. His tone was unhurried, yet each word seemed to land with deliberate precision, as if he were used to being listened to.

  Riven was a man who had seen more than his share of battles. His angular face was marked with scars. His skin was pale, stretched taut over high cheekbones, and his sharp jawline covered with a dark grey beard. His eyes—cold, calculating, and a shade of blue that seemed to freeze everyone to ice—swept over the group with a critical intensity.

  He wore a fitted leather jerkin reinforced with metal studs, evidence of someone who expected trouble wherever he went. A battered scabbard hung at his side, its hilt wrapped in faded leather.

  “I’ve been hunting Malakar for years,” Riven continued, his voice unwavering as his gaze locked onto each member of the group in turn. “I know what he’s after.”

  He stepped closer, the air seeming to grow heavier with his presence. “The crystal is only a part of it. Beneath this city lies something far older—an ancient power, a relic from a time long forgotten.” His voice dropped slightly, adding weight to his words. “If Malakar gets his hands on it, he’ll be unstoppable.”

  His expression darkened, and for a moment, the flickering firelight reflected off his eyes, making them gleam with searing intensity and piercing cold. “You’re not just dealing with a madman lusting for power,” he added, his voice a low growl. “You’re facing someone who understands the true weight of what’s buried beneath this city. If we don’t stop him, there won’t be a city left to save.”

  Elara stepped forward, her curiosity piqued. “What is this relic?”

  Riven’s expression darkened. “It’s called the Eye of the Abyss—a source of unimaginable power, capable of bending reality to the will of its master. The crystal is the key to unlocking it. If Malakar succeeds, he could remake the world in his image.”

  The group exchanged uneasy glances. The stakes were higher than they had imagined and the path ahead was unpredictable. But they knew they had no choice—they had to stop Malakar, no matter the cost.

  Riven gestured towards the city walls. “There’s a hidden entrance to the catacombs outside the gates of Drakemoor but its a bit of a hike. Follow me, and I’ll take you there.”

  With that, the group set off into the night, their resolve steeled for the challenges ahead. As they ventured into the unknown, they couldn’t help but wonder what other secrets the catacombs held—and whether they would live to see the dawn.