Chapter 28: Shattered Alliances

The trek to the third spire took them through what once seemed to be a thriving city. Now it was nothing more than ruins, its buildings reduced to crumbling husks and its streets littered with remnants of lives long lost.

The leader paused, his eyes scanning the horizon. “This place…” he murmured. “It’s too quiet.”

Zeryn tightened her grip on her weapon, her gaze darting around the abandoned structures. “It feels wrong. Like we’re being watched.”

“Because we are,” the green-eyed figure said, gesturing toward the shadows flickering on the edges of the ruined city.

As they ventured deeper, a faint, haunting melody reached their ears. The sound was eerie, almost hypnotic, and seemed to emanate from everywhere at once.

“What is that?” Zeryn asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“A lure,” the leader said grimly. “Keep your wits about you.”

The group moved cautiously, but the tension was palpable. The melody grew louder, and the shadows seemed to draw closer. Suddenly, a figure stepped into their path.

Clad in dark armor with crimson accents, the figure exuded an air of authority. Their face was obscured by a helmet, but their voice carried a chilling familiarity.

“Well, well,” the figure said, their tone laced with amusement. “The chosen ones, wandering into the lion’s den.”

“Who are you?” Zeryn demanded, her shadows curling protectively around her.

The figure chuckled. “You don’t recognize me, Zeryn? I’m hurt.”

Before she could respond, the figure removed their helmet, revealing a face Zeryn never thought she’d see again—Eryndor, a friend from her past who had disappeared years ago.