The ancient city sprawled before us, an unblemished tapestry woven from stone and silence, preserved in such breathtaking detail it seemed a phantom untouched by the centuries. Even the relentless fingers of nature had failed to find purchase on its immaculate stonework. Impossibly, the gardens thrived, a riot of color against the weathered grey, their blossoms unfurling as if kissed by a sun that had set millennia ago. A wild thought, sharp and insistent, flickered through me: could some unseen ward, some potent, lingering enchantment, be holding time itself at bay? Ancient script, elegant and cryptic, flowed across every visible surface, a silent language waiting for a voice. The air hung heavy, a curious perfume of unfamiliar incense, blooming flora, and the evidence of recent rain that still slicked patches of the ground to a dark sheen. Many small, well-made buildings were grouped around a large central structure that stood out on the horizon. Its dark shape was clear against the dimming evening sky, and it seemed to call us to cross a narrow stone bridge.

“Looks like we found the right place,” Adrix murmured, the faint shimmer around his hands pulsing erratically, like a trapped firefly, almost sparking in the still air. He offered me a tight, almost painful smile.

“Then that main hall is our next stop,” Noctis stated, his usual stoic calm thrumming with a subtle, anticipation.

“I’d give anything to explore those smaller houses,” Finnian sighed, his gaze sweeping longingly over the cluster of houses. “Imagine the libraries, the lost knowledge…” Liora let out a soft, melodious chuckle.

“Only you, Finn, would be thinking of dusty books in a place like this,” she teased.

He nudged her playfully. “Knowledge is its own adventure,” Finnian retorted, a grin finally breaking through his awe despite the palpable strangeness of our surroundings.

The moment the my boot touched the ancient stones of the bridge, Noctis’s hand shot out, a silent, urgent command. He froze us in place. His gaze, sharp, was locked on something to our right; his relaxed posture instantly transformed into lethal readiness. “Don’t move,” he breathed, his voice a low, dangerous whisper that barely disturbed the silence.

I held my breath, my own gaze snapping to follow the unwavering line of his. There, beneath the sprawling, gnarled branches of a colossal, time-worn tree—its silhouette a black lace against the weathered stone—stood a figure. It was less a form and more a tear in the fabric of the world, a shadow deeper than any night. Just as my fingers brushed the worn leather of the hilt, the figure seemed to ripple, its edges blurring before dissolving into nothingness—not fading, but ceasing to exist, as if it had never been.

“What was that?” Finnian whispered, his voice thin and reedy, his earlier scholarly enthusiasm utterly extinguished, replaced by a raw fear. Liora’s eyes, wide and luminous, darted nervously across the silent, watching city, her breath catching in a choked gasp.

“I don’t know,” Noctis replied, his voice still tight, vibrating with controlled tension. “But we needed to remain vigilant.”

“We need to examine where it stood,” Adrix stated, his earlier unease now transmuted into a focused, almost unsettling determination. The sparks around his hands had vanished, replaced by a barely perceptible hum.

Noctis considered this, his gaze sweeping the surrounding architecture with meticulous care. “Agreed. Let’s see what secrets that ancient tree holds.”

We changed our course, crossing the bridge but then veering right, our boots making soft, crunching sounds on the unexpectedly lush grass that carpeted the ground beneath the ancient tree. Its canopy was a vibrant explosion of glossy, emerald leaves, interspersed with large, pristine white flowers that seemed to emanate a soft, internal luminescence in the dim light.

Adrix circled the impossibly wide trunk, his brow furrowed, lines of concentration etched deep. “Strange, isn’t it?” His gaze swept over the gnarled roots that snaked across the ground like petrified serpents. “It felt… deliberate. A warning, perhaps?”

“Could there be something buried?” Liora suggested, a familiar spark of adventurous curiosity rekindling in her eyes, chasing away some of the fear. “Finnian and I used to bury ‘treasures’ under the old Whispering Oak back home.”

Noctis’s gaze drifted to the base of the tree. He crouched, his fingers brushing the soft, dark earth. “You might be onto something, Liora,” he said slowly, his voice resonating with quiet intensity. “The ground here… it feels… disturbed.” He indicated a patch of slightly darker, looser soil, where a few freshly scattered leaves lay hastily. “It’s subtle, but it’s undeniably different from the surrounding earth.”

“Then we dig,” I declared, a thrill of anticipation warring with the lingering chill of the vanished figure.

“Okay,” Noctis agreed, his fingers already probing the disturbed patch. The earth yielded with surprising ease, crumbling softly. “Got something,” he announced after a few moments, his voice carefully neutral. He held up a small, intricately carved wooden box, its surface worn smooth by countless hands and the passage of ages. Carefully, reverently, he brushed away the clinging soil. “Lyra, your hands are cleaner.” he said, standing and offering the open box to me. Inside, nestled on a bed of faded velvet that disintegrated at the slightest touch, lay a tightly rolled scroll. I lifted it with feather-light care, the papyrus-like material feeling astoundingly intact. Slowly, I unfurled it. The ancient, flowing script that bloomed across its surface was instantly recognizable – the same elegant carvings that adorned the city’s silent sentinels. Finnian leaned over my shoulder, his breath catching, his eyes wide.

“Ancient language,” he breathed, his voice hushed with a reverence.

“Can you decipher it, Finnian?” I asked, turning to him, the weight of the ancient words palpable in my hands.

“Yes I can,” he replied, stepping closer, his eyes already devouring the script. Noctis and Liora leaned in, their faces illuminated by the scroll’s faint, intrinsic glow, their curiosity a tangible presence.

However, as we all drew closer, forming a tight knot of anticipation, Adrix took a distinct step back. His hands began to tremble, not with fear, but with a barely suppressed power. A faint, violet shimmer – violet? his mana was always blue – enveloped them, an almost involuntary manifestation of inner turmoil. He clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles were white, and the visible mana subsided, though a rigid tension coiled through his posture.

“It’s a journal entry,” Finnian announced, his voice resonating with the gravity of his discovery, pulling my attention sharply back to the scroll.

He cleared his throat. “‘The City must be sealed. K’tthar’s shadow lengthens, and its hunger threatens to consume all that is beautiful, all that is sacred. I fear… I fear the very stones will cry out in agony if it breaches the Wards.’”

“Wait,” I interjected, an icy tendril of dread coiling around my heart. “K’tthar… isn’t that the—the entity they supposedly bound for eternity?”

“The very same,” Finnian confirmed, his eyes wide and haunted as he continued to read. “The writer… they were part of the group marching to confront K’tthar, to perform the final sealing.”

“Does it say how?” Liora asked, her voice a fragile whisper.

Finnian paused, his brow furrowing as his finger traced the final, faded lines. He looked up, a profound sadness clouding his features. “No… it ends with a plea. A desperate hope that their sacrifice would be enough.”

“Well, their sacrifice was enough, it seems,” Noctis said, a note of grim, hard-won satisfaction in his voice. “After we see to your… reawakening, Finnian, I believe a thorough exploration of this city is in order.”

“I still can’t shake the image of that figure,” I murmured, the memory of its ethereal dissolution a cold spot in my mind.

“I can’t either,” Finnian replied. Carefully, almost reverently, rolling up the scroll and tucking it back into its ancient wooden box.

“Let’s keep moving,” Noctis urged, his gaze already fixed on the imposing silhouette of the grand building across the bridge, a silent promise of answers or further perils.

Finnian, however, hesitated, his feet seemingly rooted to the earth near the ancient tree. “Finn? What is it?” Liora asked, her perceptive gaze noticing his pause, the distant, unfocused look in his eyes.

“I’m not sure,” Finnian replied slowly, his eyes now locked on the colossal structure in the distance. “It’s… a pull. A resonance. As if… as if a part of me already knows what lies within those walls.”

“Good thing that’s our destination, then,” Adrix quipped, though his voice carried a subtle, underlying tremor.

He’s fighting something, I thought, my gaze lingering on Adrix. His violet eyes, usually so clear and vibrant, seemed clouded. A knot of genuine concern tightened in my chest. Whatever is going on with his mana, I hope he can withstand it.

“This presents a minor inconvenience,” Liora observed, hands on her hips as we finally stood before the massive, windowless building. Its facade was an imposing, unbroken expanse of seamless white stone, awe-inspiring but utterly devoid of any discernible entrances. “No doors. Ingenious, but how do we invite ourselves in?”

“With a polite magical knock,” Adrix replied, a sliver of his usual confident sarcasm returning, though the violet aura around his hands was more pronounced now. He stepped forward and placed his hand flat against the cool, unyielding stone. A vibrant violet glow, emanated from his palm, spreading across the surface in intricate, rapidly forming sigils. A prickle of unease traced my spine. Violet? Adrix’s mana was always a brilliant, steady blue. A low, resonant groan vibrated through the very air, and then, two enormous stone doors, previously invisible, began to slide inward. Clouds of dust, disturbed for the first time in eons, billowed out like ghostly sentinels, momentarily obscuring the darkness within.

As the heavy stone doors ground fully open, Adrix’s violet mana continued to writhe and dance around his hands, extending outwards like questing, immaterial tendrils, probing the space beyond. In response, a soft, ethereal blue glow began to emanate from the very fabric of the room, revealing intricate patterns of ancient script that lined the walls from floor to ceiling, pulsing rhythmically. In the far reaches of the chamber, a column of brilliant, sapphire fire flickered to life, its light cool and steady, casting long, dancing shadows that seemed to whisper forgotten secrets.

The room itself was vast and rectangular in shape. Along both the left and right sides, rows of simple, unadorned stone benches stood silent and empty, witnesses to countless forgotten ceremonies. A clear, wide path stretched down the center of the room, leading towards a set of broad stone stairs at the far end. These stairs ascended to a large, imposing stone pedestal, bathed in the ethereal blue light of the sapphire flame and the glowing script. The air within felt preternaturally still, charged with an ancient, dormant magic that prickled the skin.

“Imagine the awakening ceremonies they must have held here,” Liora murmured, her voice filled with awe, her eyes wide as she absorbed the glowing walls.

Finnian, meanwhile, seemed completely entranced. He moved as if in a dream, walking slowly down the central path, his gaze fixed with an almost hypnotic intensity on the large stone pedestal at the far end. 

Liora followed closely behind Finnian, her own gaze now drawn to the imposing pedestal. He stopped at the foot of the stairs, turning to look at her, a soft, almost ethereal smile gracing his lips. “Are you ready?” he asked, his voice gentle, yet resonant in the vast chamber.

She met his gaze, her own reflecting a complex tapestry of anticipation, fear, and unwavering trust, and gave a small, decisive nod. Finnian then reached out, his fingers gently, reassuringly, wrapping around her hand. Together, hand in hand, their steps echoing softly in the immense silence, they ascended the wide stone stairs towards the glowing pedestal.

A quiet warmth spread through me watching them. There was an undeniable harmony between Finnian and Liora, a gentle counterpoint to the raw power thrumming around us.

They stood in the center of the stone pedestal, facing each other, their hands clasped tightly, two small figures against the backdrop of ancient power. Adrix positioned himself at the foot of the stairs, his violet mana now radiating outwards in controlled pulses, probing the very essence of the stone beneath their feet, seeking a connection, a key. In response, the ancient words etched into and around the pedestal pulsed with an intensified blue light, their forms shifting and swirling like sentient constellations.

Abruptly, Adrix’s focused mana shifted, its nature changing from inquisitive probe to binding force. Instead of merely connecting, it hovered above Liora and Finnian, forming not a simple sphere, but an intricate, cage of shimmering, almost aggressive violet energy, its bars thrumming with a terrifyingly contained power. Within this cage, the air around Finnian began to distort, to ripple like heat haze over desert sands. Faint whispers, in no language known to us, yet undeniably coherent, seemed to emanate from the very stone beneath his feet, rising up through him, coiling around him. His eyes, still locked with Liora’s, flickered with an inner light that was both his and terrifyingly other.

Then, a deep, resonance began to vibrate through the pedestal, a hum that resonated in our very bones, traveling up their intertwined hands. The whispers intensified, growing into a chorus of voices, and the light within Finnian’s eyes flared, taking on an ancient, molten gold hue. It wasn’t mana as we understood it. This primal energy surged outwards from Finnian, not in a chaotic burst, but in a slow, deliberate, irresistible expansion, pushing against the constricting violet energy cage. The cage shimmered violently, the humming escalating into a high-pitched, ear-splitting whine, before finally, with a sound like a thousand panes of shattering crystal, it fractured, imploded, and dissolved, leaving Finnian and Liora bathed in the incandescent, golden light that now emanated from him, a beacon in the ancient chamber.

Adrix stumbled back from the stairs as Finnian and Liora, still hand in hand, their forms almost translucent within the golden aura, began to descend. But their progress was violently, halted. A raw, untamed, agonized surge of violet mana erupted from Adrix like a physical blow. He staggered backwards, his hands flying to his temples, a strangled, inhuman cry tearing from his lips.

“EVERYONE GET OUT! NOW!” he roared, his voice distorted, broken by an unimaginable agony.

Panic, stark and absolute, seized Finnian and Liora. They turned, their golden glow flickering, and sprinted towards the massive stone doors, Noctis a silent, grim shadow right behind them. I, however, found myself rooted to the spot, a strange, horrifying paralysis gripping me as I watched Adrix writhe, his body convulsing, the violet energy around him flaring like a dying, malevolent star. I knew, with a certainty that chilled me to the bone, that I had to help him, but my limbs were lead, my mind a vortex of fear. The heavy stone doors, with a final, mournful groan, slammed shut with a resounding, cataclysmic boom, plunging the chamber into near darkness, sealing me inside with him.