The wind screamed through the jagged peaks of the Eldren Mountains, like a wail from another age. It carried murmurs, fragments of forgotten secrets, while the sky, heavy with a violet dusk, seemed to hold its breath. In the frozen valley, four silhouettes trudged forward, their boots crunching on frost-covered gravel. Each step echoed, a fragile defiance against the oppressive silence.
Kael led the way, though the mantle of leader sat uneasily on his shoulders. His sword swayed at his hip, and his dark eyes scanned the horizon, watching for shadows that danced just out of reach. He paused for a moment, letting the wind bite his face, and turned to the cloaked figure at his side. "Mira, tell me this is worth it," he growled, his rough voice tinged with impatience. "These ruins, this… Codex. If it's a fantasy, we're risking our lives for nothing."
Mira, the scholar with bright eyes and a temperament as fierce as fire, tightened her grip on a worn map, its edges frayed from months of travel. Her auburn hair spilled from her hood, whipped by the gusts, but a bold smile lit her face. "Kael, still doubting?" she replied, her tone wavering between mockery and excitement. "I've spent years deciphering runes, poring over archives the world has forgotten. Every clue points to Valthorne. The Codex is here—I feel it in my bones. It's not a fantasy, it's…" She searched for words, her eyes sparkling. "It's the key to everything."
A low rumble rose behind them, like a distant landslide. Torren, a giant with a blacksmith's past and a mercenary's bearing, dragged his massive warhammer, its head carved with ancient sigils that seemed to defy the cold. "Feelings, huh?" he muttered, his red beard twitching with his breath. "That nonsense won't keep us alive. You mentioned traps, Mira. Hidden blades, curses, that sort of idiocy. If we fall into a pit because of your 'feelings,' I swear I won't be in a good mood." He planted his hammer into the ground for emphasis, making the earth tremble beneath their feet.
Mira spun toward him, hands on her hips, undaunted. "Oh, Torren, always grumbling!" she shot back. "Traps are likely, yes, but I didn't force you to come. You could've stayed hammering horseshoes in your village. If you want guarantees, go back to your forge. Here, we're chasing history."
Torren narrowed his eyes, but one corner of his mouth twitched, as if suppressing a smile. "History doesn't pay my debts, girl," he said. "But if I'm to die, it might as well be for something bigger than a bad bet."
At the rear, Lyra moved in silence, a shadow among shadows. Her short black hair brushed her pale cheeks, and her piercing eyes swept the valley's flanks. Her fingers toyed absently with the hilt of a dagger tucked in her sleeve, a gesture as natural as breathing. She hadn't spoken since dawn, and the others no longer minded. Lyra said little but saw everything—Mira's maps, Torren's grumbling, Kael's doubts. Nothing escaped her. She glanced at the broken spires of the ruins, half-buried in snow, and frowned. Something was off. Not a bird, not a crack. Too quiet.
"Lyra," Kael called without turning, as if sensing her unease. "See anything?"
She shrugged, her voice low but clear. "Nothing. That's the problem."
Kael nodded, his jaw tight. "Stay sharp."
The ruins of Valthorne loomed before them, vast and menacing. Stone arches soared toward the sky, cracked like shattered bones, and collapsed towers lay in the shadows, swallowed by time. Mira unfolded her map, her fingers trembling slightly—not from cold, but from anticipation. "This way," she murmured, leading the group to a sunken courtyard lined with mutilated statues. At its center, solitary and untouched, stood an obsidian obelisk, tall as three men. Its smooth surface seemed to drink the light, but silver runes danced across it, shimmering like stars trapped in stone.
Mira stopped short, her breath catching. "This is it," she said, her voice trembling with awe. She knelt before the obelisk, her gloved fingers brushing the runes. They pulsed under her touch, warm, almost alive. "The Shattered Codex… it's not just an artifact. It's not a book, not a weapon. It's… a lock. A key to something greater."
Kael stepped closer, his boots scraping the ground. "A key to what, exactly?" he asked, his tone sharp. "You've dragged us across half the world for this rock, Mira. What are we after? Glory? Riches? Or just another mystery that'll kill us?"
Mira stood, meeting his gaze without flinching. "The truth, Kael," she said. "The Codex held the world's balance. When it was shattered, everything changed—the storms, the shadows, the lands cracking apart. If we restore it, we can…" She hesitated, searching for words. "We can fix what was lost."
Torren let out a hoarse laugh, leaning on his hammer. "Fix the world? By my ancestors' bones, you've got ambition, I'll give you that. But I say we find this thing, sell it, and live long enough to drink to our health."
Lyra, still at a distance, raised a hand to silence them. "Listen," she whispered.
A shiver ran through the group. The silence had thickened, and a low hum rose from the ground, like a heart beating beneath the stone. The obelisk's runes flared, their silver glow turning blinding. Kael half-drew his sword, Torren gripped his hammer, and Lyra slipped a second dagger into her free hand.
"What did you touch, Mira?" Kael hissed.
"Nothing!" she protested, stepping back. "I didn't—"
A voice cut through, deep and guttural, echoing from nowhere and everywhere at once. "Who dares defile the seal?"
The ground shook, staggering Torren. "By all the hells, what's that?" he roared, brandishing his weapon at the obelisk.
Lyra crouched, ready to spring. "Not a trap. Worse."
Kael planted himself in front of Mira, his sword drawn. "Speak!" he shouted into the void. "Show yourself!"
The voice answered, a rumble that seemed to mock their audacity. "You seek what was broken. But are you worthy to bear it?"
Mira, wide-eyed, stepped forward, ignoring Kael's gesture to hold her back. "We're not thieves," she said, her voice steady despite the fear. "We want to repair the Codex. To restore what was destroyed."
A heavy silence fell, then the voice burst into laughter, a sound like stones collapsing into an abyss. "Restore? Greed fractured the world. Prove your worth, or perish in oblivion."
The obelisk split with a deafening crack, blinding light pouring from the fissure. The ground crumbled beneath their feet, and darkness swallowed them whole.